


a different kind of chemistry

by thatoneinsecurenerd



Series: A different kind of chemistry [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Anxiety, Blood, Body Horror, Coffee Shops, Cursed Deceit | Janus Sanders, Dialogue Heavy, Drunkenness, Fluff and Angst, Food, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Physical Abuse, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Morality | Patton Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders Are Twins, Panic Attacks, Past Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders, Sexual Humor, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Swearing, Therapy, Threats of Violence, Underage Drinking, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Vampire Sleep | Remy Sanders, but it's not actually shown, everyone has some kind of magic except Logan, i think, one chapter of text format, past toxic relationship, threats of murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:54:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 19
Words: 90,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26915458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatoneinsecurenerd/pseuds/thatoneinsecurenerd
Summary: Logan had expected college to be a different world than what he was used to back home. What hehadn’tbeen expecting from college was to be introduced to a whole new world that had been under his nose this whole time. He hadn’t been expecting to find a spot within that world through the bonds he forged with many different kinds of people.[Updates every FridayorSaturday]
Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Dr. Emile Picani/Sleep | Remy Sanders
Series: A different kind of chemistry [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2023423
Comments: 92
Kudos: 48





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if I need to tag something, and I will as soon as possible.
> 
> (I wrote this this summer, and I'm honestly excited to finally post it. I hope you guys enjoy it.)

“Hey, uh... You’re good at chemistry, right?” Virgil asked the bespectacled student in his English course. Virgil had run from his previous class in order to make it to this one early, so he could talk to the student alone. But he was starting to regret it. Not even the professor was in the room, and being faced with a stranger wasn’t doing any wonders for his anxiety. Virgil had never talked to this student before, and now he was posing a strange request, asking something that it might be weird that he knew. 

“I- Yes. I would hope so, considering that’s what I’m getting my degree in. But do I know you?” the bespectacled boy replied, pushing his glasses up on his nose with a finger, as if that would help him recognize Virgil. Virgil knew it wouldn’t, unless the other boy knew the face of every student in his classes. 

“You don’t. But I’ve heard that you’re good with chemistry, and I need your help.” 

“But why should I help someone I don’t know? Even if I do enjoy chemistry.” 

“I’m just... working on an experiment. Making something. But I don’t know much about how things react with other things, just what the things do on their own. That’s where you’d come in. You’d prevent... explosions? I guess. Is that a thing that happens in chemistry?” 

“Why are you conducting a chemistry experiment if you’re unfamiliar with much of the subject?” 

“I mean, I _should_ know more, but it’s never been my strong suit. And this... experiment... I promised I’d get it done and it would work, and my client has offered a hefty sum of money, but only if I get it done before Friday, and I’ve already put it off this long, and I’m desperate. I’ll give you a cut of the money. Just... _please_.” 

“I never said I wouldn’t help you.” 

“You never said you would.” At that moment, the professor and a large crowd of students walked through the door. “Look, come find me later and I’ll tell you more about it.” The bespectacled boy nodded, watching curiously as Virgil, with his dark clothing and purple bangs shielding his eyes, walked away. 

The bespectacled boy, named Logan (and surely Virgil knew this?), always sat in the front of the room so he could easily hear, see, and focus on the lecture. But today, his focus was elsewhere: on the back corner of the room where he was sure Virgil was sitting, even if he didn’t dare look back and verify it. 

The hour and a half lecture seemed to go on forever, even as Logan’s pen flew across the pages of his notebook, some part of him taking in all the information as another part of his mind puzzled over the curious encounter with Virgil.

 _What kind of experiment was the boy conducting? Why had he waited so long to start it? Why had he agreed to take on the project if he knew it might not turn out well, if he knew he wasn’t as well versed in the subject as he knew he should be? And why had he come to_ Logan _, someone he didn’t even know?_

_Who had given Virgil the idea to come to him? Was it Patton?_ The much more cheerful, bespectacled boy was always trying to push Logan out of his introverted shell and help him make new friends – always introducing Logan to some of his own. And Patton was friends with pretty much everyone, so Logan didn’t put it past him. 

If Patton knew someone needed an expertise Logan could provide (and if Logan was being honest –and allowed himself a little boastfulness – there wasn’t much he _couldn’t_ provide expertise on), Patton wasn’t past recommending Logan to them. 

At some point, the classroom had cleared out. The only sound in the room was the repetitive snapping of fingers. And then a voice. “ _Hello_?” Virgil’s. “Don’t tell me you were zoned out the whole lecture.” Logan shook his head to clear the daze. 

“Apologies,” Logan responded. He looked down at his notes, honestly surprised to see that he’d taken notes and that they made sense. “I was aware enough to take notes, but not aware enough to register that the class had ended. Where shall we go to discuss our potential arrangement in more detail?” 

“Um... You could probably get us a tutoring room, right? You do tutoring, don’t you? You could tell the librarian I'm one of your students.” 

“I suppose we could do that. Follow me, then.” Logan gathered up his belongings and put them all in his bag in an organized fashion before walking quickly out of the room. Virgil had no trouble keeping pace as the two walked across campus to the library. They walked through the doors, then Virgil followed Logan – who nobody spared a second glance at – to a “hidden” corridor past the computer lab. They walked into a room with a silver number 3 on the green door. 

Logan hung a sign on the doorknob before closing and locking the door behind him and Virgil. As he did so, Virgil took a seat at the large, round table in the center of the room. Logan joined him shortly after, noticing the array of notebooks and large books - that didn’t look like textbooks - that Virgil had spread out in front of him. Logan took a seat, eyes already curiously roving over the hastily scribbled notes in Virgil’s notebooks, since the “regular” books didn’t have titles on the front covers. 

“What is this for?” Logan asked after a long moment. He hadn’t touched any of the books or notebooks to flip pages and explore their contents further, not sure if Virgil would be okay with that. It could end up being an invasion of privacy and a horrible foot to start this project off on. “And how did you fit this all in your backpack without it obviously bulging and weighing you down?” Virgil flushed, his mind whirring in a way that he was sure was audible, as he tried to find a way to explain it. 

“There are... a lot of... _secret_ pockets,” he finally settled on, not sounding sure of himself. “And this is all for my client. I wasn’t sure what I’d need, so I brought everything except the ingredients, themselves.” 

“But what, exactly, are we making?” 

“Something - I don’t know what yet, I suppose that’s where you come in – to increase my client’s creativity and alertness.” 

“And you couldn’t find anything in all these books of yours?” 

“You can see my notes. I know what herbs can produce those kinds of effects, but I don’t know if they would mix well together. If they can combine into a mixture that tastes good or if I’d have to add something to enhance the flavor and hopefully not decrease the mixture’s potency. If one of the ingredients is toxic but has a non-toxic substitute, or if I’ll have to try my hand at... I suppose it would be perfume making. 

“Normally, I dabble in... drinks. And normally, I don’t need to go out of my way to make them. Most clients ask for the few recipes I’ve already perfected. But if a client is willing to offer to pay _this_ much, well, I’m not about to say no. Broke college student and all.” 

“But you couldn’t find whether your ingredients were safe to consume? That’s not in your books?” Virgil shook his head. 

“The book is mostly spells.” A pause, as Virgil processed what he’d said. “I mean-” 

“Spells?” Virgil grimaced. He’d prayed that Logan hadn’t heard it. Now, Virgil’s mind ran with a single thought: _Now you’ve gone and done it, Virgil. Might as well dig the hole deeper and pray Logan won’t tell anyone._ Then Virgil spoke. 

“There are spells that can offer some of the effects I’m looking for, and they’ll usually list what kind of set up you need to make the spells most effective. Candlelight, the witching hour, the full moon, and herbs that can enhance the mood. Lavender or Valerian for sleep, for example. 

“So I figured taking these herbs and combining them into a... drink... would prove effective. It’s how I’ve made some in the past. I make a mean aloe/rose petal tea bag.” 

“What... does it do?” Logan didn’t seem to think Virgil was off his rocker. He seemed genuinely interested in Virgil’s craft. 

“It helps with digestive issues, including the nervous butterflies in your stomach before a class presentation.” 

“What else can you make?” 

“A motivation po- um... A _drink_ to increase one’s motivation. A drink to help one sleep – I use that one a lot, though, so I’ve kind of become immune to my current strength mix. I suppose I’ll have to undertake _that_ next.” 

“And what are you thinking for this... creativity/alertness ‘drink’ you have to make?” _Hadn’t Logan read Virgil’s notes?_

“Well, coffee usually increases alertness when consumed, except in the case of those immune to the effects of caffeine. Rosemary oil can increase alertness, but shouldn’t be consumed, so I could go for a couple sprigs of rosemary and hope that won’t dull the potency. As for the creativity aspect... I’m stuck. None of my books have anything about increasing creativity. 

“I have a couple, um, _dark magic_ tomes I could look into as a last resort, but the price for those kinds of spells isn’t kind, whether the spell itself costs a price or puts a mark on my soul or... well... 

“And sometimes, those books have... unconventional ingredients. Like, for a creativity po- _drink_ , I might have some normal, standard ingredients, but then I’ll have to add something like one of Leonardo DaVinci’s teeth or a vial of Beethoven’s blood.” 

“In a ‘ _drink_?’” 

“You can’t tell it’s there, but it really enhances the effects of the drink. That’s why there’s usually a price. That doesn’t even always account for the hefty cost of the ingredient.” 

“Maybe we should stick to... lighter? Means, then. I can conduct a Google search for ingredients that can boost creativity.” 

“I don’t think that’s how-” Virgil tried, but Logan had already pulled his smartphone out of his pocket. His fingers flew across the screen, more like he was sending a text to someone than conducting a Google search. But maybe he was. And that wasn’t any of Virgil’s business. 

Virgil pored over his notes and books again while he waited, wondering if there was something he’d missed, wondering if Logan would actually come up with something. To some extent, non-magic folk had figured out the effects of various herbs that magic folk had known for centuries, but sometimes they were way out of the park. Other times, they tried to use magical enhancements for spells they shouldn’t have managed to get their hands on and called it occultism. 

At some point, Logan had pulled out a page from one of his own notebooks and was scribbling notes in the same blue pen he’d used during class, his eyes on his phone screen but his writing still perfectly neat and within the light blue lines on the page. He was muttering to himself, but Virgil wasn’t listening in on it. He was taking more of his own notes. 

And then, Logan stopped writing and tucked his phone away. He looked up and met Virgil’s eyes. “Anything?” Virgil asked, his tone of voice implying that either he hadn’t found anything new, anything useful, or that he was sure Logan wouldn’t have been able to. Or both. 

“Well, cypress vine is said to increase creativity, but I assume that’s more on the basis of scent. If you were looking to use it in a drink, you’d poison your client. But there are existing drinks said to have those effects already.” 

“Yes, but my client isn’t looking for something that won’t work. They’re looking for something tried and true.” 

“The reviews on one such product said it worked great.” 

“Yes, well, your people will believe anything.” 

“ _My_ people?” _Oh shit._

“It wasn’t meant to be an insult to your intelligence. You're very intelligent. I wouldn’t have come to you for help, otherwise,” Virgil rushed, desperately wishing he could take back what he’d said. 

“And yet, you’ve implied that you know things I don’t. You’ve been very shifty this entire time, so of course, that may be true, but if you’re going to keep me in the dark then insult my intelligence, I’m not going to assist you.” Logan gathered his belongings and shoved them into his backpack (literally shoving, but somehow still in an organized manner) before standing. “You’ll have to find someone else – someone you can truly trust – to help you.” Logan walked over to the door. His hand was on the knob when Virgil spoke up again. 

“Logan, it wasn’t like that! There's just... things I can’t tell you.” 

“If there are things you can’t tell me, I cannot help you.” Logan didn’t turn back to face Virgil, but he hadn’t yet walked out of the room, either. “You need to find someone you can tell... whatever you’re keeping from me, in order to assure the best for your client.” 

“You’re the best person I could find!” 

“But clearly, I’m not good enough. Goodbye, Virgil.” Logan pulled open the door and walked out, not bothering with the sign he’d hung on it, so Virgil could still have the privacy he needed. Virgil watched the door close, then groaned, running a hand roughly through his purple fringe. 

He knew he’d messed things up. He knew he was screwed. 

*** 

“Any chance you’ll forgive me?” Virgil asked Logan, a couple days after “the incident,” when he had his English class with Logan again. He stood next to Logan’s desk, not daring to sit down in case Logan decided to lash out and he found himself stuck. If he was standing, he could make a getaway before it got to that point. 

Logan said nothing, his head down and eyes focused on a book. But Virgil knew Logan was listening. He _had_ to be. _Right?_

“I could sweeten the deal,” Virgil tried, his voice holding a sing-song lilt. This was all uncharacteristic for him, but he wouldn’t admit that he was desperate. “I could whip you up a drink of your own. Free of charge. Any kind you’d like.” 

“Obviously not _any_ kind, because you’re so desperate for help with this one,” Logan finally said bitterly, though his gaze didn’t leave the page he’d been on this entire time, since he wasn’t actually reading it. 

“I could learn. I’m learning how to make this one.” 

“I don’t think you are. If you’re back here, I assume you’ve made no progress without my assistance. Friday is two days away.” 

“Right, so I _need_ your forgiveness.” 

“What you _need_ is my help. And I don’t know why I should help you when you can’t trust me enough to be honest with me about this project. And if you can’t be honest, I can’t help you to the best of my abilities.” 

“I found an ingredient for the creativity, and I decided on the rosemary sprigs. All I need is for you to verify that I’m not poisoning my client or lessening the potency of the drink.” 

“Google exists for a reason. But I suppose you don’t trust Google, since it’s run by _my_ people. And since _I’m_ also a part of _my_ people, it’s no wonder you can’t trust me. So good day, Virgil. And good luck.” Virgil sighed. He couldn’t continue to try pleading his case, because the professor and the horde of other students walked through the door, then, cutting their conversation short. Virgil made his way to the back of the classroom. 

He didn’t bother trying to focus on the lecture. He sat his cell phone in his lap and pulled out his notebook. He looked over his list of ingredients, and even tried to consult Google. He tried to find names he recognized from his community, or folks whose magic seemed legitimate. 

It didn’t bear any fruit, however. He had no more information than he’d had before. And he’d tried to research chemistry, but there were too many big words that made no sense to him. 

He knew that when class was dismissed, he would need to talk to Logan. He would need to risk everything and be entirely honest, if he was going to get this done. Because if he didn’t, he knew he’d have to turn to his dark magic tomes. And he _really_ hated doing that. 

So he walked up to Logan’s desk again as the boy was packing up his belongings. “I already told you I’m not going to help you any longer,” Logan told Virgil, not looking up from his task, his voice bitter. 

“What if I promise one-hundred percent transparency? I tell you everything you want to know about this ‘experiment,’” Virgil offered, knowing his desperation was shining through. 

“Aside from coding things in a way you believe _my_ people would understand, haven’t you done so already?” 

“I’ll tell you about what I am.” Virgil knew this was a huge risk. 

“A magic user. I believe your people are called witches?” 

“Wicca is only a fraction of what my people are capable of. We provide simple spells and magical enhancements, the latter which will provide a spellcaster with a burst of magic, enough for a spell. We provide potions, the drinks I make. 

“I prefer spellwork to potions, obviously, but I won’t ever turn down money. It’s the only way I can keep up this college student front. And conducting business like this is the only way I can keep myself under wraps. Because people who come to me take a blood oath of secrecy. It’s the only dark magic I’m willing to perform. 

“I have them swear on it as I prick their finger and collect a vial of their blood. If they break the secret, the blood spoils in the vial and inside the person’s body.” 

“Spoil in what sense? I assume it’s meant to harm them.” 

“Can we continue this discussion somewhere else? I’ve already said far too much for our current setting.” 

“Of course. The tutoring room again?” 

“Sure.” And so, that’s where they went, Logan once again leading the way. When Logan closed and locked the door of the tutoring room behind them, Virgil began speaking. 

“I don’t know one-hundred percent about how the blood spoiling works,” Virgil explained, “It could be as simple as when blood spoils after sitting outside a refrigerator for too long, but that seems too simple for dark magic. I think it’s something more like a curse. Like the vial taints the blood with some ugly curse, and blood that’s been inside a person’s body is always _theirs_ in some sense, so the blood still _in_ the body starts to feel the effects of the curse. They keel over and die, I assume. All I know is they don’t come back. But I haven’t had to deal with any of that, yet. 

“People who want our services are desperate for them. We’re kind of a last resort. Maybe they’re scared of us. But they wouldn’t dare betray us. 

“Since I’m telling you all this, you’ll have to take a blood oath, as well, I hope you understand. I’m risking a lot by being so open about this. My people have lived in fear for a long time. 

“Some of your movies paint us in a positive light, but there’s too much bad history that our fears aren’t assuaged by them.” 

“I understand,” Logan replied, once he was sure that Virgil had finished speaking. “I appreciate your honesty. But I sense there’s still much more for you to tell me. Including more that pertains to this experiment.” 

“Right. Well, I’m obviously making a potion. Herbs have all sorts of effects, and to some extent, your people have figured that out. So I take herbs and some other ingredients - some of them magical, things you’ve got to go to specific dealers for, and I have a... _friend_ who’s always willing to hook me up – and combine them, cast a spell to ensure the ingredients will stay fresh and as potent as the mixture allows.” 

“So is the aloe/rose petal tea bag you mentioned before solely aloe and rose petals?” 

“Of course not. But I’m not about to tell you more than that. Some secrets I have to be allowed to keep. 

“But if you’d like to know what magical ingredients I’m putting into this creativity/alertness potion, I can tell you that. I _should_ tell you that, since you’ll need to know to help me. Though you won’t understand what any of it does. 

“I brought one of my _friend’s_ books. An encyclopedia, if you will, of magical ingredients. He keeps it around as sort of a checklist for his own shop. He’s the one who gets me what I need for my spells, when I need anything restocked.” Virgil pushed a thick, black-leather-bound book towards Logan. “You can read it all, if you’d like, if you can finish it by Friday. But I stuck sticky notes on the pages with the ingredients I’m using.” Logan nodded, opening the book to the first sticky note. 

Virgil was silent as Logan consumed the information quickly, as if he had been starved and was finally having his craving sated. He waited until Logan closed the book and looked back up at him, signaling that he’d read all the bookmarked pages. At some point, Logan began to take notes, and the sound of his pen scratching on the sheet of notebook paper he’d pulled out was the only sound in the room. 

Virgil didn’t know how long he’d waited. He was sure it wasn’t long. But when Logan finished reading, he closed the book and pushed the sheet of notebook paper towards Virgil. “Just make sure I get the book back,” Virgil told Logan, noticing the other boy tucking it away in his backpack. Logan nodded his acknowledgement. He waited as Virgil read over his notes, clarifying anything the other boy asked about. 

“I brought the ingredients today,” Virgil told Logan, after he’d finished reading the notes and asking his questions. “But we can’t make the potion here. It would have to be done in my dorm room tonight.” 

“It’s not a full moon,” Logan responded. 

“One isn’t always necessary. It’s primarily _spells_ that require certain conditions. More advanced potions would, for sure, but I wouldn’t _dare_ mess with those. I know I’d mess them up. 

“The only spell I’m casting can be cast in _any_ condition, and none of my ingredients have specific conditions they need to be used in. 

“You’re welcome to watch me make the potion, but we’ve settled all the ingredients now, so I no longer need your assistance. Thank you very much for still helping me.” 

“You’ve opened my eyes to a whole new world, a lot of new knowledge. I like learning. If you’d led with this, we wouldn’t have had any problems. But I understand why your people feel a need for secrecy. 

“Can we do the blood oath somewhere else?” 

“Of course. I didn’t bring any of the necessary supplies. Even if I had, I wouldn’t perform magic out in the open.” 

“So where will we go?” 

“If you’re up for a walk, we could go to my friend’s shop. I think he’ll be done with class by now.” 

“Your friend is a student?” Virgil nodded. He didn’t explain any further, instead walking out of the room and hoping Logan would follow him. Logan did, removing the sign from the doorknob and hanging it inside the tutoring room, before following Virgil out of the library and off campus. 

They walked into a coffee shop that Logan had been in many times. It was known for having better coffee than the campus coffee shop, so students preferred to go there for a coffee fix. Logan was left to wonder if Virgil’s friend’s shop was hidden in a back room of the coffee shop, or if they were just there to get coffee – or a pastry, since Logan might need a little sugar after giving Virgil some of his blood. 

Virgil and Logan walked up to the counter together. “What can I get for you?” the woman manning the register asked, a bright smile on her face. 

“I’ll have a whipped iced chocolate cappuccino americano,” Virgil responded. Logan’s brow subconsciously raised immediately. He knew no such coffee existed. It wasn’t on the menu. And besides, an americano and a cappuccino were two different kinds of coffee, he knew. But the girl behind the counter didn’t seem as confused as he was. 

“And for him?” 

“The same. It’s customary to share with my _business partner_.” The woman nodded. She hadn’t typed their order in, Logan noticed. 

“I’ll let him know you’re coming down.” She walked away from the counter, despite the line growing behind the two boys. Logan followed Virgil out of the line and off to the side, waiting for the woman to reemerge. Virgil would watch her for a signal that he knew meant that he was okay to go down. 

The woman reemerged from a back room and made some kind of gesture with her hand and lowered it from her face in an arc. Virgil nodded. Logan followed Virgil into the back room and down a flight of stairs. 

“It’s me!” Virgil called out, knowing that the woman hadn’t told his friend who was coming, but knowing he was always welcome. “I have company, though!” 

“I know!” a voice called back. “Anastasia told me. She just didn’t say what _kind_ of company.” 

“Here for a blood oath.” 

“You know I don’t like when you do those here.” Virgil and Logan had stepped further into the room, but the person had yet to emerge from wherever they were hiding. 

“I can’t just do them in my dorm.” 

“Yeah, I know.” A pause. “Alright, come on back.” Logan followed Virgil behind the front counter. The mystery person was crouched before a cardboard box sitting on the cement floor. They stood upon hearing Virgil and Logan’s footsteps, their cape flaring out behind them. 

“Patton?” Logan asked, brow subconsciously raising in confusion again. But no, it couldn’t be Patton. Because Patton wouldn’t keep secrets. And Patton didn’t wear a black cape with yellow silk lining the inside, nor did Patton have scales covering the left side of his face. Not to mention the lack of glasses. 

Wait. _Scales?_

“Janus, actually,” the person responded, holding out their hand for Logan to shake. He did, his eyebrow returning to its natural position on his face. “Patton is my twin, though, so you’re close.” 

“Patton didn’t tell me he had a twin.” Apparently, Patton _was_ keeping secrets. 

“He can’t exactly talk about me to _his_ friends.” 

“Does he have magic, too?” 

“I don’t believe that’s my business to tell. Nor is that your business here. Just get on with it, will you? Maybe if you do it quick enough, the smell won’t linger.” But Janus knew that wasn’t true. The lingering, garlic-y smell of dark magic would stay for at least a week. 

Virgil led Logan even further into the shop, into an even-further-back room. He pulled a small, rusted metal box from beneath a chair at the table in the center of the room. He tapped the rusted lock three times, and the box popped open. 

“What kind of spell was that?” Logan asked, eyes wide in curiosity. 

“Unlocking charm. I’m pretty good at doing charms non-verbally. But that one’s a simple charm,” Virgil explained as he pulled objects out of the box and set everything up. 

“Like Harry Potter.” 

“Yeah. Sort of. Are you ready?” Logan nodded, holding out his hand. Virgil took it. “I’ll tell you the incantation once, so try to remember it. You’ll say it as soon as you feel the prick of your finger. Got it?” Logan nodded again. Virgil told Logan the incantation, then counted off from three, warning Logan when the prick would hit his finger. 

“The blood in my veins is pure as truth is pure. On the purity of my blood and the purity of honesty, I swear to keep the secret I have been entrusted with (the secret of the existence of magic), or so help me, the punishment will be as ugly as the monster of dishonesty.” And in the time it took Logan to speak the incantation, his blood filled the vial. Virgil capped the vial, leaving Logan to clean the spot and wrap a small bandage around it. 

As Virgil packed up the box and re-hid it, Logan sniffed the air, hoping to catch the scent that Janus had mentioned. But he couldn’t smell anything unusual. As he and Virgil walked out of the even-further-back room, Logan asked about it. 

“You won’t smell it. I don’t smell it. I think it’s just a Janus thing. A lingering curse effect,” Virgil explained. They walked through the shop and up the stairs, possibly not aware of the fact that Janus was still there and he could hear their conversation. 

“A curse?” Logan asked. 

“That’s not my business to tell. And no offense, but I don’t think he’ll tell you. And since you know Patton, don’t go asking him about it, either. Don’t let him know you know.” 

“But he’ll keep hiding it from me, otherwise.” 

“It’s his secret to tell you. But hey, you know now, so I hope I can rely on your intelligence the next time I need a helping hand?” They stepped into the café area. 

“We’ll see.” 

“You have to return Janus’ book by Friday, anyway.” 

“Right. How will I contact you?” 

“Can I see your hand?” Virgil asked, as they stepped out of the coffee shop. Logan raised a brow in curiosity again - it seemed to be a thing with him - but he held out his hand for Virgil. Virgil took it and gently pushed up the sleeve of Logan’s button-up shirt. He tapped on Logan’s wrist three times, then slid his finger across it. 

In purple ink, on Logan’s arm, appeared a series of ten numbers, separated by dashes. “My phone number,” Virgil explained, watching as it already faded away. 

“Where did it go?” Logan asked, though his brow had lowered. 

“It’ll appear when you need it.” 

“What kind of spell is that?” 

“A variation on a memory charm. Instead of transferring something I need to remember on a piece of paper like you might, it’s - I suppose – on a metaphorical slip of paper in the back of my mind. The charm transfers the ‘memory’ to whatever surface I touch, and with additional thoughts when I do the charm, I can make it visible only in times of need. Right now, specifically when _you_ need it.” 

“You can tailor spells?” They were headed back to the college campus. 

“Sure we can. All spells are, are inventions of sorts. They began as thoughts. The words were only added later, to make it easier. The words make it easier to channel the energy - takes away the thinking portion of it. But if you have a mind that thinks as fast as mine, you can do all sorts of complicated charms non-verbally. If not, well, you’ve got to make up a word for it.” 

“Did you make up this spell?” 

“Charm. But yes. I did.” 

“Does it have a word?” 

“I can’t teach it to you, unless you’re secretly hiding magic in that nerdy body of yours.” 

“Not as far as I’m aware. And anyway, I think I have enough material on my hands for now with the book you lent me. But will I be able to contact you outside of business? For you to teach me more about the way you magic users-” 

“Magic _folk_ ,” Virgil corrected. _Maybe his people were sensitive about that sort of thing? He’d seemed sensitive about the mention of wicca, after all._

“-Magic _folk_ -” Logan amended, “-live?” 

“We’ll see,” Virgil responded, turning Logan’s remark from earlier back on him. They arrived at the campus. 

“Fair enough. I’ll text you later, so you have my number. It’s been a pleasure.” 

“It’s certainly has been.” 


	2. Chapter 2

Logan and Virgil didn’t have their shared English class on Fridays, and Logan didn’t feel comfortable dropping Janus’ book back at the shop on his own, so it was a good thing he had Virgil’s number magically hidden on the skin of his wrist. 

He texted Virgil late Thursday evening (or, well, it could technically be considered early Friday morning, but Logan didn’t have class on Fridays, so it was fine), right after he’d finished reading the very last page of the book Virgil had lent him. Logan had taken notes the entire time, soaking up the knowledge of magical potion ingredients. He was already itching to learn a lot more about Virgil’s world. 

Logan didn’t expect to receive a text back from Virgil almost immediately: **_Meet me @ the_** ** _coffeeshop_** ** _@ 4pm. Don’t be early._ **

_Don’t you mean ‘don’t be late’?_ Logan texted back. 

**_No._ **

Logan sighed. He figured it wasn’t his place to pry into why Virgil didn’t want him there early. Virgil didn’t seem willing to explain it further. Which led Logan to trying to hypothesize. 

_Was Virgil just not an early person? Did he have business elsewhere, before then, and he didn’t want Logan to arrive early and have to wait for him in the coffee shop, awkwardly nursing a latte, on the off-chance he was late?_

Realistically, Logan knew that puzzling over it wouldn’t do him any good. He knew he needed sleep. His circadian rhythm would have him awake in a few hours, and he’d already lost too much sleep by staying up this late reading. 

It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for him – just more common during finals season – but he always disliked the groggy feeling that wouldn’t go away, no matter how many cups of coffee he consumed. He disliked the look of dark circles under his eyes and Patton’s friendly nagging that would result. 

Patton would try to stuff him with sugary treats and coffee, as if that would help any more than however many cups of coffee Logan had already had. Logan would walk into the dorm room’s kitchen, and Patton would just _know_ that he hadn’t slept enough. Patton would act like a father figure to Logan, even though Logan was the older of the two. 

Logan knew he should sleep, but his mind wouldn’t shut off, absolutely reeling with everything he had learned, even after he had shoved the book into his bag and the notebook he’d filled almost entirely to the brim with information from the book into the back of his closet, behind his suitcase and the few cardboard boxes he’d had to use to move in some of his belongings earlier in the year. His mind was filled with his block-ish, blue script, magical terms floating by in a shade of purple, because of the pink highlighter (courtesy of Patton) that he’d used. 

Patton didn’t know what Logan was studying, and Patton wouldn’t ask. Logan loved learning, and he learned so many things. If, this time, it was something that might be considered abnormal to most, no one would know. No one would ask. And Logan liked it that way. 

Regardless, he still couldn’t sleep. He wasn’t worried about being found out. The information had long since processed in his brain. The sun was beginning to peek over the horizon, lighting the sky in shades of pink and orange. 

Logan sighed, rubbing his eyes. He knew his internal alarm would go off within another hour. He always woke up as soon as the sun was in the sky. 

Logan tried so hard to close his eyes, get some semblance of sleep in the last hour he had left to do it. He turned away from the pretty sight outside of his window, but it didn’t matter much, because the sight was reflected on the white doors of his closet. 

He sighed again, leaving his eyes closed as the world behind his eyelids got brighter and brighter... And then, his eyes fluttered open, as if he’d been sleeping the whole time, his internal clock nudging him awake and out of bed. 

Logan rubbed his eyes again, and they burned. If he’d slept at all, he’d probably slept for, at most, 45 minutes. It wasn’t nearly enough. He tried to trick himself into thinking it was, but his eyelids felt heavy; his limbs felt heavy; his brain felt heavy in his skull. He felt like a weight, sinking into his bed. But he knew sleep wouldn’t come now. 

He slowly, as if feeling regretful, rose from his bed. He made his bed then changed into an outfit for the day: a dark blue polo he’d received from Patton for Christmas and a pair of dark blue jeans to match. He tried to remain quiet, knowing that Patton, who also didn’t have classes today, would sleep in for another couple hours. 

He opened the door to his room slowly, peeking his head through the crack as if wary of anyone else who might be awake at this hour – even though he and Patton were the only boys in the dorm room. He stepped one white-socked foot over the threshold, stepping into the hallway on the tips of his toes: a child on Christmas morning, sneaking out to see what presents Santa had left for them under the tree. 

However, Logan was headed towards the dorm room's tiny kitchen. Specifically, to the coffeemaker sitting on the counter and the bagged coffee grounds stashed in the cupboard above it. 

He began making coffee, also starting on breakfast. He knew the coffeemaker might not necessarily be loud enough to wake Patton, but Logan knew that if it did, Patton would love waking up to the smell of breakfast. Patton loved when Logan cooked, because Patton was horrible in the kitchen. 

Patton loved when Logan made pancakes, so Logan started on that, pulling out all the necessary ingredients, including - but not limited to - chocolate chips for Patton’s pancakes and fresh blueberries for Logan’s own. 

He still tried to be quiet, but the coffeemaker was whirring and the pan was sizzling. It was loud enough to wake Patton, who bounded into the kitchen with the energy of a five-year-old, which Logan – eyes drooping as he bent over the stove and watched the pancakes in the pan – envied. 

“Pancakes?” Patton asked joyfully, practically skipping into the kitchen to watch Logan cook. Patton stood behind Logan, not wanting to be in the way, on his tiptoes, because his eyes only normally went to Logan’s shoulder. His breath brushed against Logan’s neck, which, had Patton not announced his presence in the loud, energetic way he always did, would have certainly alerted Logan of Patton’s presence. 

Logan involuntarily shivered at the sensation, becoming just a little more alert. His posture straightened, since he noticed that he’d been slightly slouched. Patton had no hope of watching over Logan’s shoulder now. He pouted, and Logan knew he was. He pressed a fresh blueberry to Patton’s pouting lips, removing his hand again and focusing on his work when he felt the blueberry disappear and Patton step away. 

When Logan plated up breakfast, he asked about Patton’s plans for the day. Patton waited until they were both seated and he’d chewed and swallowed a bite of chocolatey pancakes to answer. “I was probably just going to watch Roman’s play rehearsal this afternoon,” Patton told Logan. 

Roman Reyes, Patton’s boyfriend since after about two months since they’d met in their Intro to U.S. History class the previous semester, theirs and Logan's first semester at the college. The couple had hit it off right away, when Roman had slid into the seat next to Patton, offering a chocolate chip cookie from the coffee shop he’d stopped by on the way before class as a silent thank you – since he was running a bit late (a stop at the coffee shop would do that, it took Roman another week to discover). Then again, when Roman’s hand shot up with every question the teacher asked regarding the American Revolutionary War. And also the moments when he was studiously taking notes, all the while muttering songs from Hamilton: An American Musical under his breath. 

Patton wouldn’t be able to pinpoint which of those had drawn him to Roman in a romantic sense, but after the first cookie, they were quick friends. They were both high energy and passionate. They both had a sweet tooth. They fit together like puzzle pieces, and within only two months of knowing each other (despite Logan’s cautionary warnings of “Don’t you think you’re going about things a little fast? Shouldn’t you take more time to know each other? What if it doesn't work out, things end ugly, and the two of you have to sit next to each other in your history class, pretending like you haven’t kissed each other and held hands and gone on dates... or whatever it is that couples usually do?”), Roman had gained himself a number one fan: his super sappy, _pun_ -derful boyfriend, Patton Mourier. 

Patton loved to watch Roman act and sing and dance, and he loved to sing and dance _with_ Roman, as well. It was really no surprise to Logan that Patton planned to spend the afternoon with his boyfriend, but still, he thought he should ask. And when Patton asked the question in return, it gave Logan the chance to tell Patton that he had an afternoon meeting with a business associate, and he didn’t know if he’d be “home” before Patton would be. 

“A business associate, hm?” Patton asked, with a twinkle in his eye reminiscent of Roman, who liked to see romantic connotations in everything. 

“Yes,” Logan responded, knowing that if he was curt, Patton would drop it. And Patton did, nodding to show Logan that he’d taken the hint. Then, Patton changed the subject. 

“Thank you for making breakfast. Any chance I can convince you to whip up a batch of those raspberry jam scones for Roman before we have to go?” 

“Does he have a show tonight?” 

“No, but I thought it would be something nice to do for him. I’d do it myself, but... you know...” Yes, Logan remembered the day he discovered that Patton shouldn’t be left unattended in the dorm room’s kitchen. He didn’t like to think about it, that’s how bad it was, but Patton wasn’t afraid to use it as a bargaining chip against Logan. It always worked, after all. Today was no exception. 

“Alright,” he agreed, sounding more put-off than he actually was (which was not at all, and both boys knew this). “But I’ve got to wash all the dishes first.” 

“I can do that.” Patton didn’t wait for Logan’s verbal disagreement, before continuing to argue his case. “I can do that, and you can get started on the scones.” Washing the dishes was the only thing Patton could do in the kitchen without starting a fire, so he enjoyed it. It was extra fun with Roman there, though, because they’d fling soap bubbles at each other or slip their wet hands up each other’s shirts. Patton had tried placing his wet hands on Logan’s neck, in a friendly hug type way, once. Logan's body had simultaneously stiffened and shot into the air, his breath catching in his throat, and Patton learned to never do that again. He didn't know what had caused that kind of reaction in Logan, but it wasn't his business to know the details. All that was important for him to know was to not do it again.

“Alright,” Logan said again. The room fell into silence, then, as the boys finished up their pancakes. Patton ate his quicker than he, perhaps, should have, but he was excited to get to wash the dishes and watch Logan make the scones. By the time Logan had finished his pancakes, Patton already had all of the dishes soaking in soapy water. Logan dropped his plate, fork, and butter knife into the water. 

Patton had been kind enough to grab Logan all the utensils he’d need to make the scones, so Logan only needed to grab the ingredients. The two boys stayed in separate halves of the kitchen, Patton scrubbing dishes and Logan mixing ingredients. When Patton needed a dish put away on Logan’s half of the room, Logan would temporarily stop working on the scones to put it away for Patton. Similarly, when Logan knew he was finished using a specific utensil, he would plop it in the water, and Patton would wash it shortly after. 

Patton would watch Logan mix ingredients and put items in their proper places, whenever he wasn’t washing dishes. And finally, Logan popped a baking tray with 18 scones into the oven. Patton gave him a million thanks, as if the scones were already ready and Logan had put them in a Tupperware container for Patton to take to the theatre for Roman (and for Patton, himself, and probably some of Roman’s theatre friends, who could probably also be considered Patton’s friends). 

“Go get dressed, Patton,” Logan said fondly, stopping Patton's rambling. Patton enthusiastically nodded in response. He practically ran out of the room, and the door to his room slammed loudly, happily. 

Logan tidied up the kitchen and the dining room while he waited for the ding of the oven that would signify that the scones were ready to be pulled out. He wiped down the kitchen counter and the wooden dining room table. He swept the floor of the kitchen and the dining room. He went around the house, collecting all their trash. He knocked on Patton’s door and asked him to bring out the wastebasket from his room, once he was dressed, so Logan could put his trash with the rest. He could take out the trash on his way to the coffee shop. 

Patton came out, still full of energy, in a light blue polo that was the same style as Logan’s, a beige skirt (because fuck gender roles. And whoever laughed at Patton would have hell to pay from Logan and/or Roman, and they knew it), a grey cardigan tied around his shoulders like a superhero’s cape, and a flower crown of fake, light blue flowers atop his curly, dirty blonde hair. 

“You look nice,” Logan told Patton genuinely, taking Patton’s wastebasket from his hands and dumping its contents into the large trash bag with all the other garbage from their dorm room. 

“You think so?” Patton asked. Logan could hear the smallest hint of insecurity in his voice. 

“Absolutely. Roman will be positively...” Logan had to think of the proper word. “Swooning.” Patton smiled a smile that could rival the brightness of the sun, so Logan knew he must have said something right. When Patton gave him another round of thank you's, Logan knew it for a fact. 

Patton only pulled away when the oven timer dinged. He took his now-empty wastebasket back to his room, while Logan went into the kitchen to check on the scones. They were a light golden brown, and they smelled divine. Logan stuck a toothpick in the middle of a couple, and they came out clean (other than a bit of jam). 

Logan pulled out the baking sheet, setting it on top of the stove and turning the oven off. Then, he tossed the toothpick into the trash bag and tied it shut. Patton re-emerged then, still smiling. 

“You can’t eat them yet,” Logan told Patton gently, blocking his entry to the kitchen. Patton pouted in response: a child who couldn’t get the candy they were begging for in the store. “They’ve just come out of the oven. You’ll burn your mouth.” Patton’s pout intensified, but Logan wouldn’t fall for it. “I mean it, Patton. Go sit down and watch some cartoons, and I’ll have them ready for you to take to Roman and eat before you know it.” 

If Patton were a puppy, his ears would have perked up at the mention of cartoons. Instead, he bounded off, similar to a happy puppy, into their living room. He turned on the TV, and Logan let out a sigh of relief. Some days, that was _much_ harder. Some days, Patton’s pout won. 

Logan walked through the living room, shooting Patton a warning look, as he went back to his room so he could grab his bag and his galaxy-printed sneakers. He slipped the shoes onto his feet and his backpack over his shoulders. He shut the door to his room, then stepped back into the living room. 

Patton was still sitting on the couch. _Good_. Logan slipped off his backpack and set it by the TV. “Do we need anything from the store?” Logan asked Patton, whose eyes were glued to the TV screen. He could swing by the grocery store on his way back to the campus, if they were in urgent need of anything. 

Logan had a grocery list on the fridge, but sometimes Patton forgot to add things to it. Sometimes, he’d have last-minute requests (sometimes even texting them to Logan moments before he stepped in line to check out, much to Logan’s chagrin – even if he would never let Patton know it irritated him. It’s not like Patton knew when he was stepping into line, after all). 

“I dunno,” Patton responded with a shrug, not tearing his eyes away from the TV. Logan let out a soft sigh, but gave no other response. Patton would probably think of something later, when his attention wasn’t absorbed by the TV. Logan knew that, even if he didn’t plan a grocery trip, he would stop by the store for whatever Patton asked of him. 

Logan slipped back into the kitchen, to check on the scones. They were still a little hot, but they’d cooled down significantly. He cautiously used his bare hands to pick the scones up from the baking sheet and lay them gently in a Tupperware container. He put a lid on the container, trapping the heat inside, guaranteeing that the scones would stay warmer for longer. 

He made himself a second cup of coffee, heating it in a thermos in the microwave. Probably not the wisest thing to do, but he wanted to have coffee to-go, he didn’t want to restart the coffeemaker, and, well, _he_ wasn’t the one who had set fire to their original microwave and almost their entire kitchen. 

“I’m heading out,” Logan told Patton. It was hours before he needed to meet Virgil. He could pass time in the library, doing homework. He didn’t mean any offense to Patton when he thought this, but the library was a much more suitable studying environment than their dorm room. “Should I text you at a certain time to remind you to leave for the theatre?” 

“No,” Patton said. He pulled his eyes away from the TV to look at Logan. Logan had to step in front of the TV to cross the room to the front door, anyway. “I just have to get there before 6:30, probably.” 

“Then I’ll be sure to let you know when I’m heading home.” 

“Thank you.” Patton said this mostly because he knew Logan appreciated it. Logan didn’t have to tell him where he was going and when he’d be coming back, but it was something Logan liked to do. It was a habit, it seemed, considering he hadn’t stopped doing it after the couple of times Patton had told him it wasn’t necessary. It could have been the manners Logan was raised with, so Patton responded with manners, in kind. 

Patton’s attention returned to the TV as Logan slipped out the front door, backpack on his shoulders, thermos in one hand, and large trash bag in the other. 

*** 

Logan couldn’t help but arrive at the coffee shop early. He’d finished all his homework, in the library, fairly quickly, and he’d had about an hour to spare. But no, he wasn’t at the coffee shop an hour early. He didn’t know if Virgil would know if he _was_ that early, but he didn’t want to risk it. He didn’t even want to risk arriving _fifteen_ minutes ahead of time like he usually did to important events. 

He was pretty firm in the belief that “early is on time, on time is late, and late is unacceptable,” so he couldn’t help but arrive five minutes early, slipping through the door cautiously, eyes flitting around the café area, as if worried that Virgil was already there and would be beyond pissed at him for showing up early. 

Logan knew that Virgil could cast spells, but _surely any spell he could cast upon Logan in his anger would be dark magic and so he wouldn’t do it?_ And anyway, Virgil didn’t seem like the type to cast malicious spells, even if he _was_ angry. He’d been pretty adamant about not using dark magic unless it was absolutely necessary. _And surely Logan arriving five minutes before 4pm wouldn’t be considered a situation that necessitated the use of dark magic?_

Logan walked up the counter, desperate for another cup of coffee. He could feel his eyes drooping and his limbs weighing him down again. The couple of scones he’d kept for himself hadn’t helped much. The effects were worn off after a long homework session. (No, he didn’t have lunch. He was in the library. Why do you ask?) 

“A black coffee, please,” he told the boy manning the register that day. “How much extra would it be for ten shots of espresso?” 

“We... can’t give you that much,” the boy responded nervously, eyes looking back behind him, as if pleading for a manager to come save him from the probably-crazy man in front of him. 

“Seven, then?” 

“Still no.” The boy looked back at Logan as he answered, but quickly turned behind him again, his eyes _pleading_ for someone to come save him. Logan sighed. 

“Five?” Perhaps Logan shouldn’t have been negotiating his caffeine intake with a barista, some poor boy only there to make money, but he felt desperately in need of a pick-me-up. Or a nap. But he couldn’t have a nap. It would even further throw off his circadian rhythm. So he was settling for coffee. 

“I think... I think that’s the maximum. Yeah. I think I can do that for you. But it’ll cost you like a dollar extra.” 

“That’s fine. Here.” Logan pulled his wallet out of his backpack and pulled out a five-dollar bill. He set it on the counter with a “keep the change.” He didn’t try for a smile, though. “Name’s Logan.” The boy nodded, already turning away from Logan to send off his order. Logan stepped out of the line and found an empty table in the café where he could wait for his order. 

Virgil walked in a minute later, immediately locking eyes with Logan, for Logan had looked up when he heard the little bell above the door to the shop jingle. The first couple times Logan had done so, they hadn’t been Virgil. Apparently, four o’clock was coffee rush hour. It made sense. _Some_ students probably had Friday classes. 

Virgil slipped into the booth next to Logan as Logan slipped out. His name had been called for his coffee order. Virgil gave him a look when he sat down again. 

“I told you not to be early,” Virgil grumbled. 

“I needed the caffeine. I finished the book late last night,” Logan explained. 

“I’m aware.” _Right_. _He’d texted Virgil as soon as he had._ “Should I let you finish that, or are we okay to go down now?” 

“Would Janus mind?” 

“He might prefer the smell of the coffee over the garlic he claims to smell every time I have to blood oath someone.” 

“Isn’t there a chance they’d mix?”

“We’ll just have to see, won’t we?” Virgil asked as he stood. He didn’t bother holding out his hand for Logan, but Logan got the hint. He followed Virgil up to the counter, where the boy manning it immediately noticed Logan and looked at him fearfully. “How many espresso shots did you order?” Virgil asked Logan softly, as they waited in the back of an ever-increasing line. 

“Five. He wouldn’t let me go for ten.” Logan sounded like a pouting child. It was almost enough for Virgil to crack a smile. Instead, he rolled his eyes fondly. 

“Poor kid. He’ll hate us even more when we get up there.” They were already next in line, the kid taking orders like he’d been doing it for years and had established an effective rhythm. Then, it was Logan and Virgil’s turn. 

“Don’t worry, he’s not having anything else,” Virgil assured the fearful boy manning the register. “But I’ll have a whipped iced chocolate cappuccino americano for _the both of us_.” Virgil’s emphasis was meant to hint to the boy to tell Janus that both he _and_ Logan were there to see him. 

The boy nodded his understanding. “I’ll be right back,” he told them, turning around to call over a coworker. Virgil and Logan stepped off to the side while the boy went down to go talk to Janus. He came back up a couple minutes later, giving Virgil the same gesture the woman manning the counter two days before had. 

Logan followed Virgil into the back room, then down the stairs. “It’s me!” Virgil called out. 

“Please tell me it’s not another blood oath,” Janus called back. Virgil could have sworn he was actually begging. “Do I smell coffee?” Logan’s brow raised. He wondered how Janus’ sense of smell was that good. He’d barely stepped down from the last stair, and Janus could have been anywhere in the spacious underground shop. 

Janus walked out from behind the counter to greet them. “I do!” he said, sounding joyful as he noticed the cup in Logan’s hand. “I never get the coffee here.” Janus walked up to Logan, nostrils flaring. “Is it any good?” Logan held out the cup in offering. “Oh, no, I shouldn’t. Smells heavenly, though. Washing away your-” this was directed at Virgil, “-ugly dark magic scent.” 

“It _had_ to be done, Jan,” Virgil responded, exasperated. 

“Don’t call me that.” 

“There are plenty of other things I could call you. Consider yourself lucky I’m not Remus.” Logan didn’t think it was his place to ask who Remus was. 

“Yes, a _miracle_ indeed.” Janus’ voice was deadpan. “Not that I don’t _enjoy_ your company, Virgil, but why are you back here so soon? And with the normal boy again?” 

“Lent him your book.” As Virgil said this, Logan set his bag down so he could pull the book in question from it. He zipped up his backpack, slinging it back on his shoulders as he stood. He held it out towards Janus. 

“I appreciate it,” Logan told Janus honestly. “I suppose it would be too much to ask what other books you have that might help me learn more about your people?” _Why had Logan asked that? Damn his relentless thirst for knowledge._

But Janus didn’t seem to mind. Virgil could have sworn the human half of Janus’ lips quirked up in a miniscule smile. 

Janus took the book from Logan’s hands. “I was wondering where my inventory book had gone,” he said, not hiding the deadly glare he shot Virgil’s way. 

“I asked if I could take it!” Virgil retorted. 

“You know better than to ask me for things when I’m in the middle of something!” Virgil grumbled something under his breath. “What was that, Virgil?” Janus sounded more like a father scolding his child. _Was acting fatherly a Patton and Janus thing?_ Again, Logan didn’t think it was his place to ask. 

“Nothing,” Virgil grumbled. Janus nodded, as if satisfied, before turning his attention back to Logan. 

“What might you be interested in?” Janus asked. “Ingredients are sort of a starting point, but from here, I could give you a book of spells – if you promise not to try any. I could give you an encyclopedia of all the magical creatures in existence. Unless Virgil’s swiped _that one_ from under my nose, too.” 

“I have not!” Janus ignored Virgil’s protest. 

“Actually, I think that one would be a good one for you. Just be prepared to learn a lot about your people’s so called ‘cryptids.’” 

“What, like Bigfoot?” Logan asked, eyes alight with intrigue. 

“I don’t want to spoil anything else for you.” Janus liked Logan, liked his interest, his openness to this world that had been hiding right under his nose. “I’ll go get it from the back. You keep an eye on Virgil and make sure he doesn’t steal anymore of my stuff.” That got a small smile out of Logan and a “Hey!” from Virgil. Janus stepped away from the other two boys to go into the back of the shop and grab the book in question. 

Virgil and Logan stood there in silence. But it wasn’t awkward, and it wasn’t long. Janus was back, carrying a book a little bit thicker than the last one. Logan’s eyes widened as he saw it and even more so when he took it from Janus’ yellow-gloved hands and held it in his own. 

“How soon do you want this back?” Logan asked, his voice showing his awe. 

“Take as long as you need,” Janus responded. “You know the password to get down here now, right? You don’t need Virgil to chaperone?” Virgil shot Janus a glare, which was retorted by Janus poking his tongue ( _i_ _t was forked!_ ) out of his mouth. Logan noticed the exchange. He was so, _so_ curious about Janus. His tongue, his sense of smell, his curse... 

Logan bit his lip so he wouldn’t ask any questions about Janus that might make him uncomfortable. He took a deep breath, as if to calm himself. He crouched down to put the new book in his backpack. He groaned a little, as he slung his bag over his shoulders again, after he’d stood. 

“Heavy?” Janus asked kindly. Logan nodded. “Virgil, help our dear friend Logan out, would you?” Virgil walked behind Logan and slipped his hands under the backpack. He lifted it from Logan’s shoulders one, two, three times, and when it fell back to Logan’s shoulders after that third time, it was significantly lighter than before. 

“Are you not as good at spells?” Logan found himself asking Janus. 

“Not nearly as good as Virgil.” 

“It’s because you're out of practice,” Virgil told Janus. 

“I don’t see much need for practice. I’m content owning a shop where other people send me all the complicated stuff already completed.” Friendly bickering seemed to be Virgil and Janus’ thing. “Speaking of, I’m running low on a couple of your products. Let me go grab you the list.” Virgil nodded. 

Janus was back within a matter of moments, and he passed along a slip of notebook paper to Virgil. “I’ll be back as soon as I can with these, Jan,” Virgil told the other boy as he looked over the list, not acknowledging whether or not he noticed the glare Janus shot his way at the repeated use of the dreaded nickname. Virgil tucked it in his pocket. “It’s been a pleasure.” Logan wished he could stay. 

“It has,” Logan agreed, hoping his voice didn’t portray the sadness he felt at leaving the shop. 

“You’re welcome here anytime, Logan,” Janus told him softly. 

“Thank you.” Logan turned to follow Virgil back up the stairs. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for Remus-typical behavior. Some of the stuff he says is a little... _you know_.

The following Friday, Virgil and Logan had arranged to meet at 4pm in the coffee shop again. Virgil had made every item on the list that Janus had given him, and Logan had finished and taken notes on every page in the thick book that Janus had lent him. 

Logan was the one who had asked if Virgil would meet him. He didn’t know Janus as well as Virgil did, so he didn’t feel comfortable visiting him on his own, even if Janus had been the one to extend the invitation for him to. It must have been luck that Virgil had kept his number, that Virgil had agreed automatically. 

And of course, Logan was five minutes early again. Virgil had _told_ him not to be early again, but Logan couldn’t help himself. He ordered a coffee, but not because he needed the caffeine. He ordered a hot cinnamon and sugar latte, hoping Janus would enjoy the smell (part of him wondering if Janus’ sense of smell was strong enough to identify the type of coffee. But he wouldn’t ask. If Janus just happened to bring it up on his own, Logan would get his answer). 

When Virgil walked through the door of the coffee shop, Logan slid out of the booth he had been occupying to grab the coffee he had ordered. It earned him a look from Virgil when he slipped next to him in the ever-growing line. 

“Please tell me you didn’t terrify some poor barista again,” Virgil said, almost as if he was actually begging. 

“I did not,” Logan responded, taking a sip of the coffee. It was, honestly, too sweet for his liking. But he thought that Patton or Roman might enjoy it. He could save it for either of them – probably Patton, since they actually lived in the same dorm – if they didn’t mind microwaving it. 

Soon enough, Logan and Virgil were at the front of the line. Virgil gave the barista the code order, the barista stepped away to go speak to Janus, then Virgil and Logan were given the okay to go down. They slipped into the back room and started down the stairs. 

“It’s me!” Virgil called out. 

“And me,” Logan said, his voice at normal volume for the indoors. 

“Logan?” Janus called out as the two boys stepped down from the bottom step. Janus stepped out from the back of the shop. “You brought me coffee?” 

“Guess I’m just chopped liver, then?” Virgil asked, his voice sarcastic. 

“Oh, Virgil, please.” Janus was smirking as he walked towards the two boys. His nostrils flared as he took in the smell of the coffee drifting out from Logan’s cup. “Chopped liver is _much_ better. Tastier, for sure.” Logan’s eyebrow raised. _Was Janus eating people? It was more likely that he was being sarcastic, joking with Virgil. Right?_

Virgil’s response to Janus was a roll of his eyes. “And Logan,” Janus continued, “that coffee smells divine. Do I smell cinnamon?” 

“And sugar,” Logan responded, holding it out in offering to Janus. “If you’d like it, it’s yours.” 

“I shouldn’t.” Logan shrugged, taking back the coffee. “Virgil, do you have what I need?” Janus turned his attention to the boy in question, who pulled a burlap sack from his backpack. Logan figured Virgil must have used some spell to not make his backpack bulge out, considering the burlap sack was fairly large. 

Janus took the sack and his list from Virgil. He set the sack on the counter and pored over the list as he looked at the items in the sack. “Everything looks to be here. Thank you,” Janus told Virgil. “I’ll go put these all up, and you can grab your payment from the register.” Virgil nodded, as Janus grabbed the sack and slipped into the back of the shop. 

“Janus pays you for this?” Logan asked, as Virgil walked up to the register. 

“Mhm,” Virgil muttered, more focused on taking the correct amount of money from the register. He counted out a few bills, tucking them in his back pocket and slipping out from behind the register, as Janus came back out. 

“If you took more than our settled amount, I’ll _know_ , Virgil,” Janus warned. 

“Relax, Jan. You know I’m an honest person.” 

“ _Do_ I know that?” The tension in the room increased tenfold. This no longer seemed to be their friendly bantering. Logan knew it wasn’t his place to ask if there had been some sort of incident in the past, if Virgil had broken Janus’ trust before. But they seemed to have gotten over any kind of previous incident, for the most part. 

The room was dead silent, as Virgil gave no response. Logan felt awkward. He would have left, if he wasn’t also there with a task. 

Virgil pulled the bills out of his pocket. “Count it, then,” Virgil said bitterly, holding the bills out towards Janus, “if you really don’t trust me.” It was a test. If Janus counted those bills, Virgil would know that Janus didn’t trust him. And if Janus didn’t trust him, that wouldn’t be good for their business or their friendship. All Logan could do was watch and wait and see what was going to happen. The tension was very much palpable. 

Janus turned away from Virgil and the bills and met Logan’s eyes. “What can I do for you, Logan?” Janus asked kindly, his voice helping to clear away Logan’s awkwardness and some of the tension in the room. Virgil tucked the bills back into his pocket. 

“I brought your book back,” Logan explained, as he crouched down to pull it out of his backpack. His backpack had maintained the charm Virgil had put on it a week ago, so when he stood with the book in his hands, he almost groaned at the weight. Janus quickly took it from him, relieving him of the weight and not seeming to struggle with it, himself. 

“Do you have anything you’d like to read about next?” Janus hadn’t moved to go put the book away, holding it as if he wasn’t being weighed down by it like Logan temporarily had been. Logan shrugged in answer to Janus’ question. 

“I’ll take anything you’d recommend.” 

“No specific creature caught your eye?” Janus’ eye had a twinkle in it, as if meaning something more than just the creatures _in_ the book. It was a very Roman-esque twinkle. However, since Virgil didn’t know Roman, all he thought of when he saw the twinkle was Remus. And he suddenly felt very awkward standing there. 

“I should get going,” Virgil said, before Logan had any chance to answer Janus’ question. 

“Oh,” Logan said, his voice not managing to hide his sadness this time. 

“You don’t need to leave with him,” Janus told Logan. “You’re welcome here regardless of whether you come with Virgil or not. But it was _very nice_ to see you again, Virgil.” Janus’ voice for this last sentence sounded sarcastic. Especially compared to the gentle tone he’d used with Logan only moments before. Apparently, Janus and Virgil’s tension _hadn’t_ completely dissipated. 

Virgil started up the stairs. He didn’t look back to see if Logan would follow him. He was sure Logan would stay there with Janus, to get another book. It didn’t matter to Virgil, anyway. He and Logan weren’t _friends_. Logan’s business wasn’t _his_. Logan could do _whatever_ he wanted with Janus, and it wasn't any of Virgil's business. 

Neither Janus nor Logan spoke until the door at the top of the stairs had closed behind Virgil. The tension had entirely lifted, then, but Logan still felt a bit awkward. “I can get you a book on curses, if you promise not to try them,” Janus told Logan, returning to their original conversation. “Or I can get you started on a series of books in which the author analyzes the legitimacy-slash-accuracy of magic folks’ portrayal in ‘normal’ media. It’s pretty fascinating. 

“The first book is about Disney’s Snow White, and it lists our own versions of an aging spell – instead of a transformation spell, which is _much_ more complex (though if you’re interested in that, you could probably convince Virgil to show you) – and of a sleeping potion. It’s actually the potion Virgil started with. 

“I showed him the book, because he likes Disney movies. I’m, arguably, the reason his potion-making career is going so well. Because you _know_ he’s not very good at them.” _And_ a hint of the tension had returned. 

“I also have a book on magical history,” Janus continued. “That seems more your style than Disney and other media. I can also get you started on a book series that gives accurate biographies of some of your notable historical figures.” 

“Accurate as in they were magic folk?” Logan asked, his eyes alight with curiosity. Janus knew which book he was going to grab for Logan. He started walking to the back of his shop, expecting Logan to follow him. But when he turned around, Logan hadn’t. 

“Don’t you want to find out?” Janus asked, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. Logan nodded, showing an enthusiasm that rivaled Patton’s. He followed Janus into the back of the shop. He watched as Janus put the thick book Logan had returned on a shelf full of books of various colors and sizes. Then, Janus stood on the tips of his toes to reach for another book. But he wasn’t quite tall enough. The top shelf had a few inches too many on him. 

Virgil had been the one to put those books up there. Janus hadn’t wanted anyone to reach them. They were his private collection, ones that weren’t for rent. And Janus had read them so many times that he didn’t mind that he couldn’t reach them on his own. Except now. 

“I might be able to reach,” Logan told Janus kindly. The two boys swapped places. “What am I looking for?” 

“Gray book,” Janus responded. “Should say 'Aristotle' on the spine.” Logan eyes widened, even as he nodded his understanding, rising to the tips of his toes and reaching up. It seemed easy, how he plucked the book from the shelf before sinking back to his normal height. Janus would deny that he was jealous of the tall, nerdy boy. 

Logan looked eager to read the book already, given the way his thumb was tracing over the raised cursive letters on the front cover. He looked like he had a million questions that he wanted answered as soon as possible, and he knew that the book would answer them all, as soon as he got to open it. “Perhaps you should grab yourself a couple more from the series, as well,” Janus said. “You look ready to devour that one whole, the same way a snake would devour a mouse. Unless you’d like to come by to see me and pick up a new book every day.” 

“You’re probably right,” Logan said, in response to Janus’ first statement. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.” 

“You could never.” Still, Logan stood on his tiptoes to grab the next two books in the series. When he had, he sunk to the ground to put all three books in his bag. Virgil’s spell hadn’t worn off. He couldn't even tell that there were three thick books in the bag on his back, once he stood. 

“Thank you, Janus. I should be back no later than next Friday.” Janus and Logan walked back to the front of the shop together. 

“You’re welcome to come back even if you haven’t finished any of the books. I wouldn’t mind you reading here. It’s quiet here. I don’t get _nearly_ as many customers as the place upstairs.” 

“I’ll consider it.” And he would. “Thank you again.” 

“Of course. I’ll see you soon.” Logan nodded, before turning and making his way up the stairs. 

*** 

Logan was back in the coffee shop on Monday, after the English class he and Virgil shared. Except this time, Virgil wasn’t with him. 

Logan ordered a cup of normal coffee first. Today, a matcha green tea latte. He wouldn’t admit that he was only ordering it to see if Janus would be able to tell what kind it was from the smell. Logan was certainly not this adventurous in other ventures of his life. 

Unlike Logan’s previous few times in the coffee shop, Virgil didn’t walk through the door to the shop as Logan’s name was called, as Logan stood up to go grab his coffee from the barista. Because Virgil had no idea Logan had come. And Logan didn’t know if, after what had happened Friday, he _should've_ invited Virgil along, if Virgil would _want_ to come along, if things were still tense between Virgil and Janus. 

Logan sat back down at his booth, instead of going straight back into the line to give the barista the code order. He took a sip of the coffee, figuring he might as well try it, since he’d paid for it. 

It tasted nothing like he’d expected. From the bright green color, he’d been expecting something overly sweet. Minty, perhaps, since his only previous experience with a bright green beverage was the McDonalds Shamrock Shake. 

After all, Logan had no idea what matcha was. He knew what green tea was, of course, and he enjoyed it. He liked the slightly bitter taste. And that’s what this coffee tasted like, other than the slightly sweet aftertaste of the matcha that Logan found he didn’t mind so much. 

He took another sip, thinking to himself that, perhaps, he’d found a new favorite coffee, even if it wouldn’t jerk him awake the same way a black coffee with five shots of espresso after a sleepless night could. 

He took a third sip before standing and moving to the end of a very long line of college students. He sipped more of his coffee as he waited. He tried to control himself, so he wouldn’t finish it before he got to the front of the line. 

And then, he _was_ at the front of the line, with half a cup of the coffee still left (by some miracle). He gave the barista the code order and watched as they had another coworker temporarily cover for them, so they could go into Janus’ shop and tell him of Logan’s arrival (but still not by name). Logan stepped off to the side, as the barista stepped away from the counter. 

The barista came back out a couple minutes later and gave Logan a shake of the head. Logan knew this wasn’t the affirmative gesture. He knew this was a ‘no.’ A ‘do not go down there.’ Logan raised a brow at them, his eyes begging for an explanation. 

Janus had told him he’d be welcome any time. _Why would Janus refuse his company now? Was it because he didn’t know it was actually Logan, and he had the shop closed on Mondays? Or was the shop closed on Mondays and that extended to Logan, as well?_

Logan walked back to his booth, surprised to see that no one had taken it while he’d waited in line. He took a disappointed gulp of the matcha green tea latte. He didn’t care about not finishing it now, if he wasn’t going to get to see Janus today. 

He couldn’t help but look over at the barista every so often, the question of ‘why?’ in his eyes. He didn’t mean to seem like a creep. Some part of him knew they were aware of his eyes on them. This was only confirmed when they stepped away from the register again and made their way towards him. They sat down across from him, and Logan waited for them to speak. 

“Who are you to him?” the barista asked. If they were offended by Logan’s staring, they didn't say. But he was sure that, on some level, they were. And so... 

“I didn’t mean to stare incessantly. My apologies for any discomfort I may have caused you,” Logan said, before answering the barista’s question. They gave no indication of accepting his apology, however. “I think we’re friends. He said I could come by any time.” 

“Well, he’s not in today.” 

“I know he is. You wouldn’t have been gone for so long, if he wasn’t.” 

“The shop is closed today.” 

“I’m not a customer.” 

“You shouldn’t go down there and disturb him.” 

“He said I wouldn’t be.” 

“Seriously, you shouldn’t.” Logan stood. He didn’t know if he was angry, but there was a blaze in his eyes. He didn’t know if he was determined, but he knew he was _going_ to see Janus today. “Seriously, you might not like what you find,” the barista warned Logan, also standing. Logan brushed past them with a single remark. 

“Watch me.” And, well, the barista did. They watched as Logan walked through the line of customers with muttered “Excuse me’s” and “Pardon me’s” and “Thank you’s.” They watched as Logan slipped out of sight, presumably behind the door to the back room. They couldn’t hear the door close, but they knew he was gone. 

The barista went back to work with a sigh as Logan descended the stairs to Janus’ shop. 

“Janus, it’s Logan!” Logan called out, his voice just a little bit louder than appropriate for the indoors. The shop was pitch black after the door closed behind Logan. He kept one hand on the wall, the other still holding his coffee. He took the steps slowly, one at a time, listening for any indication that Janus was inside. 

Perhaps _this_ was why it had taken the barista so long to return upstairs to give Logan the response. And yet, they’d confirmed to Logan that Janus _was_ here. That Logan might not like what he’d find down here. Something that, presumably, _involved_ Janus. 

“Janus?” Logan called out again, stumbling – but catching himself and not spilling his coffee, thank goodness - as he stepped onto solid ground, expecting another step beneath him. “Janus?” 

This time, Logan received a response. A loud, vicious hiss. The kind of hiss that might come from the largest snake in the world. The kind of hiss that might come from such a snake that felt threatened, ready to lash out. 

“I have coffee,” Logan said into the darkness. He gave the contents in the cup a swirl, hoping that might raise the scent into the air for Janus to pick up on. 

Beyond the darkness, somewhere, Janus’ nostrils flared. He could smell leaves. Warm leaves. Like tea leaves. 

A hiss sounded in the room again. Logan could swear it sounded distrusting. “I promise it’s coffee,” Logan told Janus, wherever he was, whatever state he was in. “It’s a matcha green tea latte. It tastes pretty good, though I know how you are about tasting the coffee from upstairs.” Silence this time. As if Janus and the snake in the room were considering Logan’s words. “Would I be okay to turn on the light? I can’t see anything.” 

Another hiss. A ‘no,’ then. 

“You don’t want me to see you, Janus?” Logan asked cautiously. Silence. A ‘yes,’ Logan assumed. “I wouldn’t be scared of you, if that’s what you’re worried about.” More silence. “Do you want to talk about what’s happened?” 

A much more vicious hiss than the very first. A hiss so loud it echoed off the walls and sent the hairs on the back of Logan’s neck into a standing position. He involuntarily shivered. 

A very _strong_ ‘no,’ then. 

“I just wanted to make sure you were alright,” Logan explained, “when the barista said you weren’t accepting customers. But I’d like to think we’re friends, you and I. I understand if you want me to leave. Just hiss again and let me know.” Logan waited for a bit, but the room was completely silent. “If I can help you, I would like to.” 

There was no response from Janus, but the room wasn’t silent. There was the sound of shuffling and the sound of muttered cursing. More muttering, but it didn’t sound like cursing. 

The front of Janus’ shop was suddenly illuminated with an orange hue emitted from a small, orange orb. _Wait_ , _was that_ fire _?_

Logan squinted behind his glasses, as if that would help him be able to better identify the figure holding the possible flame. He could see bright green eyes, in which the flame was reflected, shining with a type of admiration, probably towards the flame. Dark hair sticking up in every which way, except for a single bright stripe hanging front and center on the face. A boy’s face. 

But it wasn’t Janus. 

“Who are you?” Logan asked the figure. The figure didn't answer, only stepping around the counter. “If that’s fire, you should probably extinguish it, before you accidentally light any of Janus’ artifacts or books on fire.” Logan knew this boy was one of the magic folk, like Virgil and Janus. No one else would be able to hold a flame in the palms of their hands. 

The boy stopped directly in front of Logan. Logan could feel the heat of the flame in the boy’s hands on his face. He could see the intensity in the boy’s gaze, the glee reflected in his eyes and the wide smile on his lips, his teeth crooked. 

Logan took a step back, not wanting the flame to burn his face. “Scared of me, mortal boy?” the other boy asked, his eyes seeming to light up in a different way, then. 

“Merely afraid of burning my face with your flame,” Logan responded factually. Because he _wasn’t_ scared. “Now, who are you? Why are you here?” 

“One question at a time, mortal boy.” 

“Who. Are. You?” 

“Name’s Remus.” His voice was high pitched, a little nasally. 

“Ah. So _you're_ Remus." 

“You’ve heard of me?” He sounded delighted at that fact. 

“Virgil and Janus have mentioned you.” 

“All bad things, I hope.” 

“I- What? I’m not sure. But next question. Why are you here?” 

“I knew J-anus was gonna need me today, so, of course, _I’m he-ere_.” 

“Why do you say his name like... that? No, never mind. What’s wrong with Janus?” For the first time in a while, a vicious hiss sounded. 

“J-anus says not to tell you anything.” 

“I won’t leave until I know he’s okay. Does this have anything to do with his curse?” Another loud hiss. This time, Logan was sure it was a ‘yes.’ “I figured it wasn’t my place to ask about it, but if it’s affecting him in a negative way, I’d like to help.” 

“Well, unless you’d like to offer up your delicious asshole-” Logan grimaced, “-you won’t be much help to our resident Double D.” 

“What does that even mean?” Logan was appalled. “Is his curse...?” 

“Oh, I’m just playing with you, Nerdy Wolverine.” Remus laughed maniacally, before abruptly cutting himself off. “You make it much too easy. And I’m a little bit silly.” He said this last sentence conspiratorially, changing the tone of his voice when he spoke again. “I couldn’t resist.” The hiss sounded again, not vicious or necessarily loud, but still holding some kind of power. Remus pouted. “Oh, alright.” But this didn’t seem to be directed at Logan. 

“I should probably get back to him, though,” Remus told Logan. “And you should get going. This doesn’t concern you.” Another softer hiss. “You’re kidding.” This wasn’t directed at Logan. 

“Can you understand the snake?” Logan asked, unable to help his curiosity. A louder hiss. Logan swore it almost sounded offended. “Apologies.” This was directed at the snake. Or Janus. Or both, if it turned out that they were one and the same, which Logan was _really_ starting to lean towards. 

If he hadn’t learned so much about the magical community already, he would’ve thought such a thing was impossible. But now, he knew that was _very much_ possible. 

“I don’t think you’ll be any help,” Remus began, “but if he wants your company, I suppose I can’t stop him. He’d bite me. And _not_ in the good way.” Remus pouted for a millisecond at the thought, before a wide grin overtook his features again. “Well, come on. Let’s take you to DeeDee.” Another soft hiss, as if the snake resented the nickname. 

Remus turned away from Logan. The light of the flame moved away, and Logan was quick – but careful – to follow it to the back of the shop. They went into the even-further-back room where Virgil and Logan had conducted the blood oath. Here, the lights were on, so the flame in Remus’ hands disappeared after a series of mutters. 

“Can you not perform magic wordlessly?” Logan asked Remus, unable to stop the words from flying past his lips. Remus looked back at him and cocked his head curiously. 

“Just... how much... _do_ you know?” Remus asked, not yet answering Logan’s question. 

“Janus has lent me a few books on the magical community. I’ve read all but one of the books he’s lent me so far and taken notes.” Remus let out another short, maniacal laugh. _Or maybe that was just how he normally laughed?_

“Guess my assessment of you was right, Nerdy Wolverine.” He paused long enough to return his head to its natural, upright position. “And to answer your question, no. But we’re not here to talk about me.” Remus turned away from Logan and to the table in the room. Logan looked at it for the first time. 

On the table was a large, green anaconda, all curled up so it fit. It looked up at Remus and Logan with one brown eye (the pupil round, _not_ slit like a snake’s would be, Logan noticed) and one golden eye (this pupil slit). 

“This is the curse?” Logan asked. The snake let out a hiss, as if to say ‘yes.’ “How long will he be like this?” 

“All day. Longer, if I don’t feed him enough,” Remus answered. 

“How much does he need to eat?” 

“A whole human.” Remus cackled. The snake hissed. Remus stopped laughing immediately and pouted. “I’m not wrong,” Remus told the snake, still pouting. Then Remus turned his gaze back to Logan. “I told him that eating a human would make things _much_ easier for him, but he refuses.” 

“A normal anaconda would have to eat a whole human, bones and all, in order to rest for a while. I assume that that’s the nature of Janus’ curse: if he eats a large enough meal, the snake part of him is dormant for a while, while the human part stays awake and allows him to run the shop. The human part must still be awake in him now, but it is overridden by the snake. 

“Janus, a human naturally, would not want to eat another human, and so, instead, he must rely on larger animals. I assume you bring them to him. Have you fed him already?” Remus shook his head. “I assume I interrupted this. My apologies. If Janus would like me to leave so I do not see this, I can respect his wishes. Aside from the state his curse puts him in, I know he is alright. If he trusts you to look after him, I can do the same.” Logan looked to the snake, his eyes asking what Janus preferred that he do. The room was silent, as if the snake was thinking it over. 

The snake hissed softly. Repeatedly. Some longer and some shorter. As if he was speaking. But Logan couldn’t understand him. If Remus’ raised eyebrow was any indication, however, _he_ could. 

“How do you understand him?” Logan asked, cutting Remus off before he’d even had the chance to begin translating. “Do you have the equivalent of Parseltongue?” 

“Do I have what now?” Remus asked in response. Logan took that as a ‘no.’ “I’ve just been ‘round him long enough is all. And he says you should go. But if you still wanna be friends with him after you’ve seen all this, you’re welcome to come back tomorrow. I’ll have him back to his usual self by then.” Logan nodded. 

“Thank you,” he said, to both Janus and Remus. “I’ll be back tomorrow. It’s been... interesting,” Logan said to Remus. This caused another wide grin to light up Remus’ face. 

Logan turned to walk out of the room. He was met with inky darkness. “Right,” he muttered to himself. “Any chance you can conjure a light to guide me out of here?” Logan asked Remus. Remus nodded enthusiastically, conjuring up another ball of flame. “If your intention is to hurl that across the shop so I can see my way out, I’d strongly advise against it.” 

“Oh, everything in here is fireproof,” Remus responded, sounding a little bit like the thought had just occurred to him. (He would have thrown the flame regardless, but the smart boy didn’t have to know that.) “Janny knows I love a little _fire_.” 

“I just hope you know what you’re doing,” Logan muttered, as Remus threw the fireball. Logan followed the light out of the room. More fireballs were thrown after him. Not necessarily _at_ him, but a few certainly came close. 

Logan made it to the top of the stairs. “That’s enough, Remus,” Logan said, his voice carrying through the shop. A defiant fireball hit the wall right next to Logan’s head. “ _Very_ mature.” Logan’s voice was sarcastic. He could imagine the wide grin on Remus’ face. 

With a sigh and his mind reeling after that unusual encounter, Logan opened the door and stepped out of Janus’ shop. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning: if there's any typos in this chapter, it's because I got a new laptop, so I'm still trying to get used to the keyboard as I proofread this chapter.

After a long night of research (as if the Internet would yield anything about the specifics of Janus’ curse, including - but not limited to - a legend behind it, some kind of cure or way to make it easier for Janus that _didn’t_ include consuming large quantities of strange creatures, or even who might have cast it, on the off-chance they’d be willing to undo it – or at least tell Logan _why_ they’d done it, why they felt Janus had deserved it), a couple hours of sleep, and a few lectures that seemed extra long, despite the coffee Logan had consumed at breakfast that morning, the second cup he’d taken to go, and another cup during his lunch hour between classes, Logan stepped into the coffee shop above Janus’ shop. He slipped into the long line, his heart already set on another cup of black coffee, despite how much he would have wanted to see if Janus could smell and tell what kind of “fancy” coffee he’d ordered that day. 

When Logan got to the front of the line, he terrified the poor barista with his order of a black coffee with five shots of espresso (unfortunately, the same one who he had terrified before, when he’d come to meet Virgil that one time, who probably had his name and face memorized, considering he didn’t ask for Logan’s name). When Logan's order was completed, he grabbed it, heading in the direction of his booth only to find it suddenly crowded with rowdy college students and textbooks and notebooks littering the table that didn’t actually look like they were being used. Logan sighed. 

He looked around the café area for an open seat _anywhere_ , but he couldn’t find one. It appeared that many students had chosen that afternoon to come in to study. Some exam was probably coming up for them, but Logan had no exams in _his_ near future. He couldn’t remember Patton mentioning such a thing, either. 

With another sigh, Logan slipped back into the line. It was his true destination, anyway. He could drink his coffee in the quiet emptiness of Janus’ shop, surrounded by books. 

When Logan returned to the front of the line, he gave the terrified barista the code order. The barista seemed as if he was expecting this - or maybe he just wanted to get away from Logan as quickly as possible - considering how quickly he rushed out from behind the counter and through the back door. 

Logan stepped out of the line, strongly considering giving the barista an apology when he saw him again. But when the barista emerged from the room, giving Logan the gesture that said he could go down, all thoughts of apologizing were forgotten. 

Logan slipped into the back room. When the door closed behind him, the room fell into pitch-black darkness, just like it had the day before. Logan’s hand brushed the wall as he slowly took the steps down, wondering if Remus would be there again, if the other boy _hadn’t_ temporarily reverted the effects of Janus’ curse like he said he would. 

Logan didn’t stumble when he made it to the last step, this time. He was expecting the lack of a drop as he came to solid ground. Perhaps he’d counted the steps on his way up them the day before, not wanting a repeat of his stumble the next time the shop was in pitch-black darkness. And if that was the case, then he certainly hadn’t expected to have to use that knowledge so soon. 

“Janus?” Logan called out into the darkness, curiously and not a hint _scared_ , thank you very much. “Are you feeling alright?” The shop was silent for a moment. Logan didn’t know whether to expect a hiss or Janus’ voice in response. “Janus?” he called out again, after he felt the silence had stretched on for too long. 

Janus _had_ to be down here. Logan had been given the okay to come down. The barista would have had to have asked _someone_. _Someone_ – even if it was Remus – should've answered him. 

“I’m in the back room!” Janus’ voice finally called out. Except it wasn’t so much of a call, considering the soft volume it reached Logan at. 

“I’ll be right there. Should I bring you anything?” Logan asked. Janus didn’t sound like he was doing well. He must not have been open for business today. But Logan could stay and take care of him. He didn’t mind it. _That was what friends did for each other, did they not?_

“No, that’s alright.” Janus’ voice was louder as Logan got closer to the back room where he’d seen Janus as a snake just the day before. When he got to the door, it was closed. He knocked on it. “Come on in, Logan.” 

Logan gently pushed the door open. The light was on in this room. He hadn’t noticed it underneath the crack of the door. Then again, he hadn’t exactly been looking there. 

Logan stepped inside the room, pulling the door closed behind him. Janus was laying on the table, a mound of blankets on top of him and a ball of fire floating by his face (the only part not hidden beneath the blankets. Presumably only so he could see Logan step into the room). 

“Those blankets can’t possibly be helping,” Logan said immediately, taking a step closer to the table. “Snakes cannot absorb the heat that blankets provide.” Janus hissed in offense, sounding exactly like a snake, despite the fact that he was in his human form. “Sorry. I know you’re part human, too. _Primarily_ human. Right now.” Logan appeared to be stumbling over his words a bit. “How are you?” he tried again. 

“I should’ve asked you to bring me something,” Janus admitted, sounding very much like he hated being reliant on anyone. 

“I have coffee,” Logan said, swirling the cup to prove his point. Janus’ nostrils flared as he inhaled the scent. 

“Black. But regardless, you know how I feel about the coffee from upstairs.” 

“You’ve never told me what you have against it.” 

“It’s not important. What I really need is something that’ll get the taste out of my mouth.” 

“Did my arrival wake you?” 

“It did.” Logan opened his mouth to apologize, but Janus pulled a hand out of the blanket mound and held it out, stopping him. He tucked his hand back under the blanket before speaking again. “But I don’t mind. I’m sure I was asleep for plenty long enough. The snake part in me should be sleeping contently. 

“Right now, I’d appreciate a glass of water and something sweet to eat.” 

“Do you have anything specific in mind? Do you stay here all the time?” 

“You mean to ask if I live here and have a fridge full of food here.” Logan nodded, ashamed. “The answer’s no. About the living here thing, anyway. But there’s a fridge in my office, a few doors back from here. Three _exactly_. Don’t open the second or fourth. 

“It’s here for times like this. See if I have any ice cream left? Chocolate. Unless Remus stole it after I finally passed out from the...” Janus swallowed heavily, as if the taste of whatever creature Remus had brought him the day before had resurfaced. 

“You don’t have to tell me. I’ll be right back. Did Remus leave this fireball for you?” 

“Yes.” 

“I wish I could make another for you. You must still be cold.” 

“I'm doing _fine_ , Logan. Please just grab me water and some ice cream.” 

“Right. Sorry” Logan said, ashamed again. Janus sighed as he watched Logan go. He was left only with his thoughts and the coppery taste of blood in his mouth. A part of him wondered if he had any on his teeth, even though he knew he’d swallowed a whole crocodile. _Whole_. 

He didn’t know how long Logan had left him alone, but he was very glad to see him come back into the room, hands overflowed with his own coffee, Janus’ glass of water, and a whole carton of chocolate ice cream, a spoon precariously balanced on top. 

“Can you sit up?” Logan asked, as he approached the table. Janus had tried to stay laying down, scooting his body and all of his blankets over, in hopes that that would give Logan enough space to set everything down. But it hadn’t quite been. Or maybe Logan just wanted him to eat sitting up. Or both. 

So, Janus tried to sit up, first slowly removing each individual blanket and shivering as he came into contact with air that probably wasn’t actually as cold as his shivering led him to believe. His limbs felt heavy, but he was sure that was just the fatigue. 

He had limbs again. He’d have to get used to the feel of using all of them, all over again. 

That was probably the worst part, considering he was always unstable on his feet and his arms strained with the weight of some of the thinnest of his thicker books, after his reversion back to his natural human state. He could still run his shop, but it was a pain to, so he usually just kept it closed. But he hadn’t been about to turn Logan away again today. 

“Do you need help?” Logan asked. Janus realized he wasn’t sitting up like he thought he was. He was still curled up beneath the blankets like a ball. Like a _snake_. Janus tried to focus all of his energy on stretching his limbs out. He tried to focus on gathering the strength to use his hands to push himself up into a sitting position. 

He suddenly felt so very _weak_ , wondering how he’d managed to get anything done by himself before. Not just before as in Sunday, before he’d become a snake, but before as in when he didn’t have someone around to grab him things after he’d reverted back to his natural human form. Because Remus couldn’t stick around: he had a life of his own. Janus had always been left on his own. 

He was sure he must have gotten up on his own, those times, to grab food and water and to take care of other human necessities, but he suddenly felt so weak. A part of him wondered if he was tricking himself into feeling this way so he could get help, be lazy. But he hadn’t asked Logan for help. He didn’t _want_ to ask for help. He _hated_ asking for help. 

“Janus?” Logan’s voice, questioning and... _concerned?_ pulled Janus from his thoughts. “It’s okay to ask for help. I’m sure you’d tell me the same thing, were I in your position.” Janus sighed. Because Logan was right. Janus _absolutely_ preached taking time for yourself, asking others for help, all that good stuff – even if he seemed uncaring upon first impression. 

“Help me?” Janus asked, though he sounded like he’d rather do anything else but ask the question, admit his weakness. Logan set everything down on the table (so there _had_ been room, after all). He took Janus’ hands and eased him into a sitting position, folding each of Janus’ limbs so that he was sitting on the table in the same way one would sit in a chair. Logan even took the time to fold Janus’ hands and fingers and cross them, bending Janus’ elbows so his hands sat in his lap. 

Logan’s touch was careful, and he constantly looked at Janus, silently asking if he was hurting him. But he wasn’t. Janus still felt a bit of a detachment from his limbs. On some level, Janus was sure that Logan could tell that he was feeling this way. Especially when Logan held the glass of water in front of Janus’ lips. 

Janus was grateful that he was capable of opening his mouth, but he certainly felt pathetic when Logan guided the glass to his lips and tipped it slowly. Janus swallowed the water quickly, like he’d been absolutely dehydrated before, but Logan still only tipped the glass slowly. And Logan only let him finish half the glass before tipping it away from Janus’ lips and pulling it back towards himself. He set it on the table, despite Janus’ forked tongue slipping past his lips and tasting the atmosphere as if he might find more water there. 

“You need to pace yourself,” Logan told Janus. “We don’t want you throwing up anything.” Janus’ tongue disappeared back inside his mouth, and he nodded slowly, in understanding. “Try stretching out your limbs again. Start with your fingers. Can you unclench and clench them again?” Janus did as Logan instructed, working slowly. Janus was sure the ice cream was melting, but he listened as Logan guided him through moving each of his individual body parts, reaffirming that they were _his_ , that he had control over them. If he was being honest, it was quite relaxing. 

“Do you think you’re able to wrap your hands around this glass?” Logan asked, holding it out towards Janus. The task would require that he hold out his arms and wrap his hands and fingers around the glass. But he was up for it, his eyebrows furrowing and his tongue sticking out just a hint as he focused. His movements were slow, but he completed the task. He drank the rest of the water quickly, since Logan’s hands weren’t there to pace him. But he could see the fond annoyance in Logan’s eyes. And he elected to ignore it. 

He set the glass back down on the table, his movements a little quicker than before, as he regained his control over his various limbs. “I’m sure you didn’t come here to play babysitter with me,” Janus told Logan. 

“Maybe not, but I don't mind helping you. I can grab the next few books in the series on my way out,” Logan responded. 

“You finished all three?” Janus was impressed. He was even more so, when Logan nodded. “But you’re not staying up late to do it, are you?” Janus eyed Logan’s coffee cup, a part of him already knowing the answer. It was confirmed when Logan gave no response, verbal or nonverbal. Instead, Logan grabbed the carton of ice cream and the spoon. 

“I’ll hold the carton. You just worry about taking the top off and holding the spoon.” Janus nodded, doing as Logan instructed. The lid was cold in his hands, and he shivered, before setting it on the table. Surprisingly, the ice cream wasn’t melted. But it was soft enough that Janus had an easy time scooping some up and eating it. He had a few more (large) spoonfuls, before Logan pulled the carton away, distinctly ignoring Janus’ pout (which looked a lot like Patton’s, of course). 

Logan put the lid back on the carton of ice cream and gently took the spoon from Janus’ hands before setting it on top. “How do you feel?” Logan asked. Janus swallowed before answering, savoring the taste of ice cream in his mouth, the chocolate entirely overwhelming the copper. 

“Much better,” Janus said honestly, without a hint of sarcasm. “Which means you can go now. I don’t need your help anymore. You can go do what you came here to do.” For this, Janus’ voice was bitter. A wall for him to hide behind. 

“I came here, because I was worried about you.” Logan allowed his voice to be vulnerable, open, and honest. “And if you were unwell, I fully planned on taking care of you. Because I believe that we are friends – unless that is too forward of an assumption (in which case I retract my statement) – and friends help each other out.” Janus was touched. He knew, of course, that they might have been becoming something like friends, but he hadn’t wanted to assume Logan’s feelings. He was glad to hear the confirmation. He would deny that it also helped to lift his spirits. 

“I intended to stay here as long as you needed me to,” Logan continued, though he wasn’t quite sure where these words were coming from. He had honestly planned no such thing. If he had, he would have brought an overnight bag containing a change of clothes, his toiletries, and his supplies for tomorrow’s classes. “Even if I didn’t have a chance to grab any new books and return the three I currently have in my possession.” 

“You’d still have to go to classes,” Janus said. “And Patton would worry if you didn’t come back home tonight. You can’t exactly tell him where you’ve been.” 

“Why couldn’t I?” 

“Because he doesn’t know that you know of this world. He’s your best friend, and he should be the one to tell you of his knowledge of it.” 

“But if I breach the topic first, that would give him the proper opening to.” 

“He would make the wrong assumption. He would assume you’re one of us. He’d bombard you with questions in that... _overeager_ way he does.” Logan knew Janus was right. But still, there was a part of him that hated keeping this from Patton. He was sure that there was a part of Patton that hated keeping _his_ secret from Logan. “You understand why he keeps his secret, so you shouldn’t put him in any sort of position that pressures him to share it. Not if you can help it.” 

“You’re right, of course.” 

“I always am.” Janus’ voice was cool as he said it, even though he enjoyed hearing the intelligent Logan whatever-his-last-name-was (it was Aster, but nobody asked) admit that _he_ was right. That Logan was _wrong_ – in a roundabout way. 

Logan’s response was a fond roll of his eyes. “I should go put the ice cream back. I’ll also grab you more water, put the books back, and grab the next three.” 

“And then what?” Janus built up his walls again, expecting Logan to say he would leave. That Janus was right that he couldn’t stay. That he should head back to his dorm room before Patton sent a search party after him. 

“And then I deliver the glass of water to you. Perhaps some actual food of substance, if you give me permission to use the mini kitchen in your office.” 

“Of course. But shouldn’t you head on home to Patton?” 

“If I come home after dark, I can tell him that I simply got caught up studying or completing homework.” 

“But you’ve done neither. Are you still on top of your classes?” 

“Of course I am. Don’t worry about me. Focus on your recovery. The longer you spend pitying yourself, the longer your shop stays closed and the less money you make.” Logan was right, of course, Janus knew. But he just rolled his eyes. “I’m coming back, I promise. I’ll even work on some homework, if you’d like to see it. 

“What about _your_ classes? Virgil said you’re a student, too.” 

“They’re all online. I don’t have to worry about attendance that way. If you’d like to bring me my MacBook from my office, as well, we can work on our homework together.” 

“That sounds nice. I’ll be back in a few minutes. You’re welcome to my coffee, if you’d like,” Logan added, though he knew Janus still wouldn’t accept. Logan gathered up the empty glass, the ice cream carton, and the spoon. Then, he walked out of the room. 

Now on his own, Janus tried to get down from the table. His legs shook as he stood on the solid ground, as they bore his weight, his hands pressed onto the table so he didn’t fall over. He rode out the shaking of his legs until he felt steady. Then he lifted a hand from the table. His hand reached out towards Logan’s coffee cup. 

At first, Janus only swirled the contents, letting the scent waft up into his flaring nostrils (one larger than the other). Then, he found himself pressing the cup to his lips, his forked tongue poking out to taste a droplet as he tipped the cup ever so slightly. 

When Logan came back into the room, Janus was caught red-handed, guzzling the coffee like he’d never tasted something so heavenly before, as if the bitterness of five espresso shots wasn’t attacking the back of his throat. Janus’ eyes widened, and he set the cup back down on the table. Even if Logan _hadn’t_ caught him, there were only a couple sips left of it, now, and he would have been found out. 

An apology was on the tip of Janus’ tongue, but after Logan set everything on the table, it was Logan who held up a hand to silence Janus. “Will you sit in a chair, or back on the table?” Logan asked. In answer, Janus eased his way into a chair. Logan took the other. He set Janus’ MacBook and glass of water in front of him. Then, Logan grabbed his own school supplies from his backpack and set them on the table before him. 

Once they were both settled in, they started on their homework. The room was silent, aside from the sounds of Janus drinking water or his fingers slowly tapping the keys of the computer keyboard, or Logan flipping pages or his pen scratching lightly on his sheet of notebook paper. 

Time passed quickly, and they were only aware of this fact when the loud ringing of Logan’s cell phone – set to some pop song Logan had no idea what it was called – shattered the silence. Logan recognized the ringtone for what it was, at least. It was Patton’s ringtone. _Patton_ had picked the song. 

Logan grabbed his phone quickly, not wanting to miss the call. He noticed what time it was, as he slid the accept call button, and a jolt of panic shot down his spine. “Hey, Lo,” Patton’s voice said from the other end, thick with a concern that sounded fatherly. “Where are you?” 

“I’m, uh...” Logan said, shooting Janus a panicked look. He was sure the other boy knew who was on the other end of the phone. “Library. Studying.” It was _sort of_ true. 

“Oh, alright. It’s just that you’re not usually out this late. Have you had dinner?” 

“I haven’t.” He’d forgotten to make him and Janus food, more focused on ‘get Janus a glass of water, get the MacBook sitting in Janus’ office (but will it be sitting on an office desk like you’re expecting?).’ 

“Then it’s a good thing I saved you some leftover pasta. You know how Roman and I get when it comes to pasta.” 

“You had Roman over?” 

“He walked me home. And since you’re usually home for dinner...” 

“I’m not upset, Patton. I’ll be home as soon as I can, okay? I just need to wrap up here.” 

“I didn’t mean to disturb you.” 

“It’s alright, Patton. I’ll see you soon.” 

“‘Bye, Lo.” Logan smiled fondly as the line clicked off. He tucked his phone back in his pocket. 

“Patton?” Janus asked, needing to confirm it even though he already knew it was, sounding uncharacteristically sad. 

“Yes. I need to head back to my dorm,” Logan responded. “I probably shouldn’t come back tomorrow, though. Patton would be worried if I stayed out late for two nights in a row.” Janus’ face fell, and Logan barely saw it, before Janus had reconstructed a mask of indifference. 

“I understand. Come back at your own convenience. I’m doing much better now, thanks to you. My doors will be wide open for customers, when you return.” Logan started gathering up his belongings and putting them in his backpack. When he had done so, he stood from the table. 

“I’ve enjoyed my time with you this afternoon. Could I, perhaps, have your cell phone number, so I can give you a better heads-up for when I plan to stop by and we can avoid me walking in on something like what happened yesterday?” Logan suddenly felt a bit confident. He wouldn’t have asked for Janus’ phone number otherwise, he knew. 

“Sure,” Janus responded. “I'll give you my number, if you hand me your phone.” Logan nodded, pulling his cell phone back out of his pocket. He handed it over to Janus after unlocking it and opening the contacts app. Janus put his number in with slow, careful fingers, submitting his contact and putting Logan’s phone to sleep before handing it back. Logan took it, and the tips of their fingers brushed lightly against each other's. Both boys bit back a small smile. 

“I’ll see you soon, Janus. You'll know when.” 

“I’ll be looking forward to it,” Janus told Logan, with a sudden confidence of his own. This time, neither of the boys could hold back a small smile. The smiles instantly fell from their faces, however, when Logan took a step towards the door. Then, Logan stepped out of the room. 

Logan walked through the dark shop, hands out to feel for any obstacles. He hadn’t wanted to jeopardize Janus’ recovery by asking him to conjure a light for Logan to follow out. He stumbled as he hit the first step of the stairwell up to the coffee shop, but he caught himself before he could fall. 

Logan took all eighteen steps up to the door to the coffee shop’s back room. Then, he opened it and stepped out of Janus’ shop. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy early Halloween, if you all celebrate it.
> 
> (Oh, and fair warning, the next chapter is about 7.1k words. I hope that doesn't scare you away.)


	5. Chapter 5

Just like the previous time he’d borrowed three of Janus’ books, Logan had read them all in three days. Which meant that, that Friday, when he woke up early that morning due to his internal clock, he sent a text Janus’ way, warning him that he’d be coming by that afternoon, at about four o’clock like he had every previous time so far. Logan was making his bed (having not left his bed to send the text message, allowing himself that brief moment to become a little more alert so he could get out of his bed and do what he needed to do) when his phone pinged. Logan finished spreading his black, soft blanket over the bed when his phone pinged again. He reached towards it as it pinged a third time. 

He only knew of two people who texted like that: Patton and Roman, who were both so enthusiastic that they’d break a long story into parts, or they’d send a message then send another one or two or five because they’d forgotten to mention something important. Logan knew Patton was asleep. The dorm was extremely quiet. Roman _should_ have been asleep, but there was always the possibility he’d set an alarm. 

If it was a big day, Roman would set an alarm for early in the morning so he could make the most out of the day before the big event. Especially if the big event in question involved some kind of planning. And Logan knew Roman would text him only if he needed Logan’s expertise when it came to said plan. Or if he needed Logan to get Patton somewhere for said plan, as if Logan was the only one of the two of them who knew how to drive a car. (Well, Logan _did_ know how to drive a car, but Patton was the one who owned and actually _used_ a car. Patton had offered to let Logan use it, but Logan never accepted, so Patton had learned to stop asking. Logan didn’t mind the exercise of walking places.) 

Logan didn’t receive a fourth message in the time it took him to unlock his phone, but he was shocked to see that it wasn’t _Roman_ texting him. It was Janus: **Awesome. Looking forward to it.**

**Oh, can you see if Virgil will come with you?**

**The person he made the potion for – that Virgil enlisted your help for – hinted to me that they’d be stopping by some time late this afternoon.**

_Sure. I’ll text him,_ Logan responded. And he did. 

Just like the previous time he had texted Virgil, despite how early it was in the morning (and Logan knew that Virgil likely stayed up late every day, that the one time he’d texted him probably hadn’t been an especially difficult night), Virgil responded immediately: **_Jan couldn’t text me himself?_ **

_Last I saw, things were tense between the two of you. He might have been worried about your reaction._

**_He knows I could never hate him._ **

_You might want to reaffirm that fact when you come with me today._

**_I never said I would, Logan._ **

_It’s in the best interest of your potion making business. I don’t believe I neglected to mention that._

**_You mentioned it. I’ll come, but /don’t/ be early, or so help me, Logan._ **

_I don’t believe you’ll resort to cursing me._

**_You’ll just have to try your luck then, won’t you?_ **

_Your attempt to sound ominous does not frighten me in the slightest._

**_I’ll see you at four. I need to sleep._ **

_Very well. I’ll see you then._

And with the last text message to Virgil fired off, Logan was free to get dressed for the day. He straightened out the blanket on his bed again. Then, he gathered up Janus’ books and put them into his backpack, which he would swear was slowly starting to lose the effects of Virgil’s charm. Then, Logan grabbed an outfit from his closet: a long-sleeved, black button up shirt and dark blue, jean pants. He set his backpack and signature galaxy-printed shoes next to the door, so he could easily slip back into his room – assuming he left it – and retrieve them before he left for the day. 

This time, Logan had had enough sleep. He’d finished Janus’ final book and the little bit of homework he had for the weekend – other than preparation for a couple of exams, for which he would work on study guides and flashcards this morning and this afternoon before he left – by midnight. Logan’s circadian rhythm was used to this. 

He didn’t feel like he needed any coffee, so instead, he grabbed a couple of his notebooks and set them on top of his work desk. He grabbed a large stack of index cards from the bottom left drawer and a pack of rainbow-colored pens that Patton had bought him for Christmas the semester before from the thin drawer directly beneath the writing surface of the desk. 

Logan set up his work desk in an organized manner, before getting to work. The dorm room as a whole was completely quiet, aside from the scratching of Logan’s colorful pens on the flashcards or his black pen on the study guide that one of his professors would be collecting for a grade. Logan solved math problems, wrote down mathematical formulas and chemical laws of nature. He wrote down significant historical dates and historical figures. He mumbled The Elements (originally written by Tom Lehrer, but revised – with Roman’s extremely reluctant help (he was only finally urged on to by Patton’s puppy dog eyes and pout) - by Logan, to accurately reflect all the elements discovered as of the modern day) under his breath. 

He was lost in his own little world of knowledge, his multi-colored handwriting floating by in his brain as he reabsorbed the information he’d learned in his classes. He quizzed himself using his flashcards; he re-read the answers he’d written on his study guides, to check them in his textbooks and in his notes. 

Even if he was absorbing the information for multiple classes at one time Logan knew his mind was automatically categorizing it into the appropriate categories. He knew he wouldn’t flub up Marie Curie and Martha Washington. He knew he had no reason to be nervous. This method had always worked for him before. 

He was packing up all of his materials, feeling confident in his chances, were he to take the exams then (though he didn’t have them until the coming Monday and Tuesday), when a light knock sounded on his door. “Come in, Patton,” Logan said, as he slipped the last of his materials into the proper places in his room. 

Patton stepped inside on light feet, barely over the threshold to Logan’s room, and left the door open behind him. He was silent, as if waiting for Logan to stand up and greet him. 

Logan approached Patton and did just that, with a “Good morning, Patton. How may I help you?” No question about how long Patton had been awake, or even about what time it was. 

“Well, I was just wondering if you’d like to go out for breakfast with me and Roman. I mean, Roman and I,” Patton said, seeming shy, as if worried Logan would refuse. “It’s not a date or anything. It’s just that we’ve got some business to take care of in town later today, so we were going to go out for breakfast then go shopping around town, check out the locally-owned shops and all.” 

“I don’t mean to be rude, but where do I come in, in all of this?” 

“I know you could make breakfast for yourself, but I know Roman is your friend - sort of. Because of me - and this is the last time he’s free before tech week for the play. I figured we could all have breakfast together in sort of a ‘sendoff’ for Roman. You could come shopping with us if you’d like, but I figured you’d rather I drop you off at the library so you could do some studying.” Patton looked around the room, before speaking again. “Except you just finished studying, didn’t you?” 

“I did. But you know I’m never averse to visiting the library. What time did you plan on us departing?” 

“Well, I’m just waiting for Roman to text me if he wants a ride from us or not, or if he’s just gonna walk to the restaurant.” 

“Where will we be going?” 

“Oh, just to the little diner on Main Street that we went to for ‘not-so-secret Santa-’” Logan had called it this, that day, because it had only been Patton, Roman, and Logan involved, and they’d all just ended up buying presents for each other. Not to mention, Patton was horrible at keeping secrets and had only lasted a week before asking Logan if there were any specific books he had his eye on, clueing to Logan – who had only put “books” on his secret Santa slip of paper – that Patton was his secret Santa, “-last Christmas eve-eve. Remember, where they had all those delicious chocolate chip cookies for ten cents each?” 

“I primarily remember having to drive you and Roman back here, because you both got a sugar high from the cookies and eggnog.” 

“You had fun, admit it.” Logan couldn’t help his small smile, which confirmed to Patton that he had, in fact, had fun, watching Roman and Patton act silly, before Logan had finally decided they’d all embarrassed themselves enough and so he should take them home. 

While they were both caught up in the memories of that day, someone’s phone pinged. Both boys were pulled out of the memory, and they checked their phones. It wasn’t Logan’s phone. He should have figured that much, since he had very few people who texted him. 

“Ro says his brother’s gonna drop him off,” Patton told Logan. “Apparently he’s got some business in town today, too.” 

“Today’s not a holiday or something, is it?” Logan asked. He wasn’t good at remembering that sort of thing. 

“It’s not. But it’s a Friday, so hardly no one’s got classes.” 

“Hardly anyone,” Logan corrected kindly. Then, he apologized. Out of habit, it seemed, considering how he slapped a hand to his mouth afterwards, as if Logan knew Patton would dislike him apologizing for it. 

“It’s okay, Lo. You know I don’t mind it.” Logan slowly removed his hand. 

“Other people do, though.” 

“But they shouldn’t have been so rude about it that you feel ashamed about correcting them. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to teach someone. And you’re not doing it in a way that’s condescending.” Patton’s voice was gentle. He opened his arms, offering Logan a hug, though Logan had never accepted one before. 

Logan wasn’t upset by Patton’s apology speech. Patton had uttered such a speech several times before, even berating Roman and teaching him the speech the first time Logan had corrected Roman’s grammar and Roman had snapped at Logan to “shut the hell up, Microsoft Nerd. Not everyone has perfect computer programming installed in their huge brain.” 

“Should we get going, then?” Logan asked, to change the topic. It was about ten o’clock, anyway. Soon enough, it wouldn’t be considered breakfast time (to him), even if you could get breakfast at the diner at any time of day. 

“Do you want to drive?” Patton asked in response, lowering his arms back to his sides. “You’re probably more awake than me. I’ve only been up since nine-twenty-ish.” 

“I can drive,” Logan responded, as he slipped his backpack over his shoulders – trying not to groan at the heavier weight than usual on his back – then slipped his sneakers on his feet. Patton was already dressed and ready. His wallet would be in his back pocket, just as Logan’s was in his own, and his shopping bags would be in the trunk of the car. 

“I’ll let Roman know we’re on our way,” Patton said, as he and Logan walked out of Logan’s room - Logan closing the door behind them - and out of their dorm room. They walked to the college’s parking garage and to Patton’s bright blue buggy. 

Logan ducked as he slipped into the driver’s seat and adjusted said seat and the mirrors to his liking, as Patton slipped into the car with ease. It was a tiny car, and Logan wasn’t exactly tiny. Not like Patton and Janus, who had both, apparently, inherited the short gene. Probably from their mother. Logan felt it would be insensitive to ask, pointing out the boys’ height. 

He started up the car and drove off, letting Patton have control over what pop song, that Logan wouldn’t recognize, would play on the car’s radio. But other than the music, the car was silent. Patton wasn’t the kind of person to sing along, unless Roman was there to sing with him. And in no time at all, Logan pulled into the parking lot of the Main Street diner. 

It was a small place, with white and light purple flowers growing around a cement walkway towards the restaurant’s front door. Though, since it wasn’t spring yet, the flowers weren’t yet in bloom. They were merely shades of the beauties they would grow into once the sun and rain of Florida had treated them well enough. 

Logan had to guide Patton, whose nose was buried in his phone, texting Roman, into the restaurant. “Roman’s got us a table in the back,” Patton said, a smile on his face. He pulled his nose out of his phone to look up at Logan with a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. They’d made it up to the restaurant’s front desk, and hearing Patton’s remark, the woman manning the register waved the two boys through. 

Patton put his phone into his pocket and led Logan to Roman, having spotted his bright red, leather jacket in a booth in the far back corner of the restaurant. Logan trusted Patton to guide him in the right direction. He knew Patton was farsighted and could see greater distances than Logan, who was nearsighted, could see even _with_ his glasses. 

When they arrived at Roman’s booth, Patton slid in next to his boyfriend, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, as Logan slid into the seat across from them. “Good morning, Roman,” Logan said, as any well-mannered person would. 

“Morning, Teach,” Roman responded, using one of his few usual nicknames for Logan. 

“Have you been here very long?” 

“No. R- my brother- would have dropped me off later. He only finally agreed to drop me off a few minutes ago when I gave him money to spend on whatever he liked. Literally whatever. So can I spend the night with the two of you tonight? I’m a little worried about what he might slip into my bed.” 

“You’re always welcome, Ro,” Patton responded with a smile. Logan wouldn’t have dared to disagree. He had no reason to, really, except, perhaps, an extra mouth to feed or the fact that Roman liked to make them all stay up and watch some Disney movie that he knew all the words to all the songs of. 

Roman’s response was another quick kiss to Patton’s lips. Logan turned his eyes to the menu then, not a huge fan of the couple’s PDA. He looked at the menu as if he wasn’t the kind of person who ordered the same thing every place he went, depending on the time of day and the restaurant’s selection. For this restaurant, at this time of day, he would order the Southwestern omelette, a side of fresh fruit, and a cup of coffee, to knock out all his food groups. 

Patton and Roman spent the longest time looking over the menu, though when the waitress first came by, the three boys sent her off with orders of coffee for all of them. (Patton’s, however, would end up with about half a cup of cream and a couple packets of sugar.) When the waitress returned with three mugs, a pitcher of coffee which she poured into the cups, and a small pitcher of cream for Patton and Roman to share, they sent her off with their meal orders. 

Patton and Roman both ordered a couple of the sweetest things on the menu, though Patton was more inclined towards chocolate-flavored foods and Roman towards strawberry-flavored foods. And while they waited for their food, Roman told Patton and Logan about the play the college’s theatre department was putting on, as if Patton hadn’t gone to see every one of Roman’s rehearsals. Roman told the two of them that he’d be sure to snag them tickets. 

Logan wasn’t big on theatre - he couldn’t understand the emotional appeal or some of the jokes or references to pop culture – but he would also go to support Roman, at Patton’s insistence. “But you might actually like this one,” Roman was telling Logan, as a waitress walked by with a pitcher of coffee and refilled Logan’s mug. “It’s historical. About Shakespeare. You like nerdy things like Shakespeare.” Patton shot Roman a look. “I mean, it’s also a comedy, but maybe you’ll understand some of the jokes? I mean, I know that you’re familiar with The Lion King, at least. You’re welcome.” Roman sang the last phrase in the style of the song of the same name, from Disney’s Moana. 

Their waitress smiled at that, as she slid Logan’s omelette in front of him, then Patton and Roman’s meals in front of them. Logan made sure to thank her, before she walked off to tend to other customers. 

Talking was replaced by eating and enjoying the meals that had been prepared for them. Logan was the first to finish, around the time the bill was delivered. He looked at it and mentally divided the cost in three. He waited until the couple had finished eating to tell them how they would split the bill and the twenty percent tip. 

They left their tip beneath Logan’s coffee mug for the waitress to come pick up when she cleaned off their table, then they walked up to the front counter to pay for the bill. And once that was settled (and Patton and Roman had snagged a couple candies from the little bowl sitting on the counter that was more for kids than adults – but it’s not like Logan’s incessant reminders of that fact would actually stop them), Patton slipped into the front seat of his car. Roman slipped into the passenger seat, leaving Logan and his long limbs to be squished in the backseat, even after Patton had readjusted the driver’s seat and his mirrors. 

“Are you coming shopping with us, Microsoft Nerd?” Roman asked. It was about eleven-thirty. Logan could spend part of the day shopping with them, or he could have Patton drop him off at the library or at their dorm room. He didn’t know if he wanted to leave the downtown area, where the coffee shop and Janus’ shop resided, just to have to walk back later. But he didn’t know how he would ask them to drop him off at the coffee shop that afternoon. 

“I might find it enjoyable,” Logan found himself saying. “As long as you don’t make me participate in another fashion show.” Patton frowned, as if the idea to do so had crossed his mind. “And as long as you can drop me off at the little coffee shop at four o’clock. I have a meeting with someone.” 

“Of course, Lo,” Patton responded happily. “Where should we go first?” The question was directed at Roman. 

“Well, _someone_ won't let us have a fashion show, but I’d still like to go to Maisey and Bill’s boutique. They’ve got a nice selection of makeup,” Roman replied. “Any objections from our resident teacher?” Logan rolled his eyes at the nickname. 

“None. Perhaps I’ll find a couple more neckties for my collection,” Logan said. 

“You have a collection?” Roman asked Logan, as Patton drove off towards their destination. 

“Of course I do. Serious people wear neckties, so I’ve collected myself an assortment.” 

“You’re not wearing a necktie now.” 

“If only to escape your mocking.” 

“I do not _mock_ you!” Roman placed a hand to his heart in a dramatic fashion, as if Logan had literally wounded him with his words. 

“Be nice, you two,” Patton chided them both, sounding fatherly, as he pulled into the parking lot of Maisey and Bill’s boutique. The wooden sign posted next to a large oak tree announced the name of the place in light purple, cursive script. The oak tree kept the small cement pathway up to the boutique’s front door cool and shady. 

Roman was quick to climb out of the car and bound up the path. Patton matched his boyfriend’s enthusiasm, after locking the car after Logan had climbed out. Logan walked at a normal place, slipping into the boutique and greeting Bill, who was in charge of the register and the boutique’s finances, about a minute after Patton and Roman had done the same. 

Logan knew Roman had made a beeline for the makeup section of the store, behind a gauzy pink curtain. He was sure Patton had followed him. He was sure both of them would emerge from behind the curtain with full faces of makeup, courtesy of Roman sampling the various products on display to decide which ones he wanted for himself. And Patton would let Roman do his makeup because it made Roman happy (and Patton was a not-so-secret fan of lipstick). 

Logan, meanwhile, walked to the men’s section of the store and to the wall of hooks over which various ties were slung precariously so as not to bend them - except many always fell to the floor when kids would rush by or someone would try to hang a tie back up but it would slip off the hook and they wouldn’t bother to pick it back up. Logan bent down to pick up the ties littering the ground, hanging them back up with a steady hand. Though there were a few ties that caught his eye, and Logan tried them on, looking into the mirror hanging on the wall beside the numerous hooks. 

He liked the look of a couple of the ties, so he held onto them. He slung them over his shoulder so he could text Patton and Roman, asking if they were done in the makeup section yet. Logan had made the mistake of going back there to check on them the very first time he visited the boutique with the couple. Roman had gotten a few drops of liquid eyeliner into his eye, after dragging him along to be made up (Roman insisting he had no more space to try any more products on his and Patton’s faces, and Patton insisting that Roman knew what he was doing. Except Roman hadn’t. Or maybe he just hadn’t been prepared for the shape of Logan’s eyes or the rush of liquid from the eyeliner). 

Logan was quick to flush it out, being given permission by Maisey to use the employee bathroom, but he would never forget the fear of becoming even more blind or the stinging sensation the eyeliner left in his eye, or the black tears that fell from his eye as he flushed out the eyeliner with water and some of his own tears: his eyes’ natural defense to intruders. 

**_Just finishing up!_** Patton finally texted Logan back, after Logan had wandered a few aisles of clothing in the men’s section. **_There’s a pretty dark blue lipstick back here you might like!_**

 _Patton, you know I do not wear any sort of makeup_ , Logan responded. _Nor would I wear a color so flashy. Nor would I fall for your attempts to get me to go back there so Roman can put it on my lips, anyway._

In response, Logan received a slew of pouting emojis from both Roman and Patton. Then, **_We’ll be out in a few. Roman found a few things, so meet us at the register?_**

 _Of course._

Logan headed to the front of the boutique, the ties he’d selected in his hand. He waited off to the side for Roman and Patton, looking to the gauzy pink curtain every so often, so he could see them coming. 

The two boys slipped out from behind the curtain with their faces fully made up. Both boys had on foundation (Patton’s paler than Roman’s), which Logan only knew because their faces looked smooth. Roman had on a bright red lipstick that looked suspiciously purple in the center, especially when compared to Patton’s bright blue lips that also had a large, suspicious spot of purple in the center. Roman also wore glittery gold eyeshadow and black liquid eyeliner, and Patton had a dramatic, gray and black smoky eye with black liquid eyeliner. 

Roman held a tube of bright red lipstick (presumably the same shade that was on his lips, beneath the purple made by Patton’s sampled light blue shade), a square, plastic container of tan foundation, and a tube of dark blue lipstick that Logan assumed was the one that Patton had told him about, that it appeared Roman had planned to buy and make him try, anyway. Logan was sure Patton would have only half-heartedly protested to it on Logan’s behalf. 

Roman and Logan purchased their items. As they left the store, Roman waved the tube of dark blue lipstick in Logan’s face. “Come on, just let me put it on you,” Roman was pleading. He and Patton wore matching sets of puppy dog eyes. “You have such pretty, full lips. And you like dark blue.” 

“I do like the shade, yes,” Logan responded, trying very hard not to give into the puppy dog stares leveled at him. “But the color is bold for a lipstick, which I do not wear on a normal basis and I may be judged for.” 

“If anyone judges you, I’ll track them down and kill them with my sword.” Roman sounded determined. 

“No murder,” Patton scolded his boyfriend, while Logan said, “You don’t own a sword.” 

“I do, too! My brother _steals_ it from me, but it’s mine.” They reached the car. Roman slipped into the backseat with Logan, cramming Logan's long limbs in there even further, to continue trying to convince Logan to let him put the lipstick on him, as Patton drove them to their destination, which Logan had no idea what it was. 

“Fine,” Logan agreed, as they pulled into the parking lot of a used-book store. Perhaps Roman and Patton had chosen this destination knowing it would help their case. Upon Logan’s agreement, Roman clasped his hands together and squealed like an excited child. Patton wore a beaming smile. 

They got out of the car and went into the bookstore, Roman holding the tube of dark blue lipstick inside the right pocket of his red leather jacket. Logan immediately wanted to go look at the wide selection of books, but he allowed himself to be led to a small table in the children’s section of the store. He scooted a chair next to Roman, as did Patton, so he could watch Roman do Logan’s makeup. 

Logan sighed and closed his eyes, letting Roman go to town. He listened to and followed any instructions Roman gave him. He felt as Roman lined his lips with a pencil which must have come with the tube of lipstick. Then, the small spongey brush of the cold, dark blue lipstick was lightly coating his lips with color. It tasted a bit like chocolate, for some reason. 

“You can open your eyes,” Roman said, after he’d tucked the tube of lipstick back into his pocket and taken a picture of Logan sitting there serenely, eyes closed and lips full and dark blue. Roman showed Logan the picture once the boy opened his eyes. 

“Not bad,” Logan complimented. The lines were clean, his lips looked smooth. “Though, while this _is_ a nice shade for my complexion, it is not something I would wear on a daily basis.” 

“Of course not. But I’m going to keep it, and if you ever want to borrow it, just shoot me a text.” 

“Right. Can I go now?” That came off a bit rude, he knew, but Roman and Patton were used to that bit of abrasiveness from him. 

“You can go now,” Roman responded. So, Logan stood and left the couple in the children’s section. He didn’t want to think about how they would probably continue turning their lips purple. Instead, he wanted to look at every shelf of adult and young adult books in the store, no matter how long it took. 

He knew Patton and Roman wouldn’t mind. They might eventually find their way to the young adults’ section, to look for books _they_ might read. Or they might find their way to the movies section, where they could pick up DVDs and VHS tapes for different movies. Or they might find their way to the music section, where they could pick up CDs to play on the radio in Patton’s car or in the radio at Roman and his brother’s apartment (which Patton and Logan, _both_ , had yet to visit) and records to add to Roman’s ever growing collection, even though he didn’t actually have a record player or know anyone who did. 

Logan didn’t know how long it had been, when his phone rang. He’d made it to the last row of the adults’ section, right at the front of the store, feet away from the register. He’d already dropped off a large stack of books that he would be buying there, so he wasn’t straining his arms with the weight. Still, he had a couple more that he had to set down on an empty space on the shelf and hope no one would try to take as they came to browse the section, as he grabbed and answered his phone. 

“Hey, Lo.” Patton’s voice, always so peppy. “It’s been a couple hours since we entered the bookstore. It’s about two-thirty. Roman and I went next door to the animal shelter to look at the animals, so when you’re done meet us there, okay? I figured you’d be- _Oh my gosh,_ hi _, sweetie. Aren’t you just the_ cutest _little_ thing _?_ ” Patton’s voice changed to be higher pitched, and Logan seemed to be forgotten on the other end. 

“I’ll be over there in a few minutes,” Logan said after a moment. He heard Patton mutter something that sounded like “oh, right,” in his normal tone of voice, as if realizing he hadn’t hung up the phone. “Thank you for updating me on your location.” 

“Mhm,” Patton murmured. Logan knew Patton’s attention was now being directed elsewhere. He hung up the phone and slipped it back in his pocket. He grabbed the books he’d set down, finished browsing the last of the shelf in the row, then walked up the register. 

He gave the teen manning the register his name, so they could grab his large stack of books. They rang up all of Logan’s large stack of books, sticking them in a few plastic bags that Logan wasn’t quite sure would hold the weight. He should’ve asked Patton about bringing one of his large, canvas-fabric shopping bags. Then again, he hadn’t expected to find so many good books (some he’d already read and some he was interested in reading). 

Logan groaned as he held the bags, one biting into the skin of his wrist and the others biting into the palms of his hands. He exited the shop, using a hip to open the door. He walked down the sidewalk, looking for the sign to the animal shelter, which he didn’t think he’d ever been in before. When he found it, he slipped inside. 

“Excuse me,” he asked the older woman at the front desk, “do you happen to know where a couple boys wearing matching purple lipstick might be?” 

“Well,” she began, after thinking hard for a moment, ”the dogs are closer to the entrance back there-” she pointed at a door behind her and to her right (Logan’s left), “-and they’ve probably been here for at least forty-five minutes, so I’d go check the cats, which you can get to through this door-” she pointed at a door behind her and to her left (Logan’s right), “-here.” 

“Thank you." Logan's words were rushed. He hoped Patton and Roman wouldn’t be back there. Patton was allergic to cats, and they all should have known it. Cat hair would make him sneeze and his eyes water, but if a cat licked, bit, or scratched him because they were playful, Patton would break out in hives. 

Logan quietly burst into the cats’ room, even despite his concern. He was greeted by mewling animals and the distant sound of sneezing. It had to be Patton. 

Logan followed the sneezing sound through a maze of cages filled with larger and older cats to a back section of cages filled with mother cats, their litters, and some kittens who had been separated from their mother (or maybe the mother had died in childbirth; Logan didn’t know) but not their siblings. 

Patton was petting a cat through the bars of one of the cages, his free hand blocking his sneezes and wiping his eyes. “Patton,” Logan said to announce his presence, his tone filled with a warning. Patton looked up at him, tears cascading down his cheeks when he closed his eyes and sneezed again, his fingers still between the bars of the cage. 

“They’re so cute,” Patton whined, as he slipped his fingers out from inside the cage and stepped away. He and Roman stepped towards Logan. 

“Patton, did any of them lick, bite, or scratch you?” Logan’s voice was filled with concern. 

“Nuh-uh,” Patton replied, with a shake of his head. “I promise, Lo. I’m okay.” 

“Roman,” Logan continued, turning to the red-clad boy next. Roman gulped at the intensity in Logan’s eyes, behind his glasses. “Why would you let Patton come into the cat section when you _know_ he’s allergic to cats?” Roman opened his mouth to speak, but Logan wasn’t finished yet. “Even if you’d forgotten, it should have become obvious when Patton began sneezing up a storm and his eyes began to water. If he had that kind of reaction to the allergens in cat hair alone, you should have assumed his reaction to a lick, bite, or scratch from a cat would be much worse. 

“Why would you let Patton take that risk and pet the cats? Do you know where he keeps his Epi-Pen or if he even has it on him? Do you know his parents’ phone numbers or Patton’s medical information?” Roman seemed to shrink in on himself at Logan’s incessant questioning, as if ashamed. As if silently admitting that he hadn’t thought it through, that he didn’t know the answers to Logan’s questions. 

“I thought so,” Logan finally said, after a few more questions that Roman didn’t hear. Patton had moved to comfort Roman, whispering assurances to him that he was alright, that Logan was just being protective of him. “Let’s go.” Roman nodded, ashamed, and Roman and Patton followed Logan through the maze of cat cages – Patton's sneezes sending off rounds of concerned mewling from the older cats and concerned glances from Logan. 

They stepped into the main room of the shelter. Patton wiped at his watery eyes. He used hand sanitizer that sat on the front desk. The older woman wished the three boys farewell, and they responded in kind, as they stepped out of the door. 

They walked to Patton’s car, where Logan was aided by the sunlight shining overhead, as he looked over Patton’s skin for any signs of a rash. There weren’t any. And after a few minutes of standing outside, away from all the cat hair, Patton’s eyes stopped watering. He continued sneezing as Logan put his books in the trunk then climbed into the driver’s seat of the car, and Patton and Roman slipped into the backseat. But the sneezing stopped once Patton had blown his nose a few times, evicting all the microscopic allergens. 

The car sat in the parking lot. Logan didn’t know where the other two boys wanted to head next. 

“I’m sorry, Lo,” Patton said sadly, genuinely. 

“It’s alright, Patton. Though I do wish you were more careful about it, or that Roman had thought to stop you. He likes to say he’s your knight in shining armor, but he often seems to forget that cats need to be viewed as dangerous dragons, when it comes to you.” 

“But they’re so _cute_ ,” Patton whined again, just as he had in the shelter. 

“But your physical health is more important than the cuteness of cats.” Patton pouted, but he knew Logan was right. 

“I’m sorry, too,” Roman said, to both Logan and Patton. “I need to be more careful about this sort of thing. And I should learn the important information in case something bad happens.” Logan nodded his agreement, but he gave no verbal response. 

“Where should we head next?” Logan asked the other two boys. “Wherever we go, it’ll have to be a quick trip, because I need to be at the coffee shop in an hour.” Patton and Roman were silent as they thought it over. The car was a bit tense, because of the conversation that had just finished, but Roman and Patton’s enthusiastic whispering seemed to lighten it ever so slightly. 

“Are you sure we shouldn’t just drop you off at the coffee shop?” Roman asked, his voice at normal volume. 

“I was told not to arrive early, so no. I need to arrive there at four o-clock sharp. No sooner. We need to find something to do to fill this last hour of time.” Roman nodded, and he and Patton returned to whispering. 

It seemed like the whispering might go on forever, that it might take the two boys an hour to come up with an idea. “Ice cream?” Patton finally proposed. 

“Wouldn’t you prefer to purchase an actual, _healthy_ , mid-afternoon snack?” Logan responded. 

“But ice cream tastes good. And it won’t ruin my appetite for dinner in a few hours.” 

“Perhaps, but you also had a sugary breakfast. You may benefit more from even _pizza_ than you would from ice cream.” 

“Pizza?” Patton asked, his eyes lighting up in excitement at the idea. Roman’s eyes did the same. 

“There’s a pizza place with an arcade inside a few blocks away,” Roman said. “And it’s within walking distance of the coffee shop, so after you’ve had your fill of pizza and... whatever games you play, you can walk down to the coffee shop and be on time for your meeting.” 

“An arcade?” Patton echoed, his voice filled with a questioning wonder. Roman nodded. 

“Alright, Roman,” Logan agreed, his voice sounding a hint strained. After all, his pizza suggestion wasn’t meant to be taken. Pizza would surely spoil the boys’ appetites for dinner later that evening. “Tell me where I’m going.” Logan started up the car and pulled out of the parking lot. Roman guided him to the pizza place, and Logan pulled into a spot in the front. They’d passed the coffee shop on the way over, so Logan knew how to get there when the time came. 

Patton and Roman bounded into the pizza place, and Logan followed after them, at a normal walking pace, after locking Patton’s car. 

Upon walking into the place, Logan’s nose was assaulted with the smell of baking pizza dough and spicy pepperoni, and his ears with the sounds of video game guns firing, music from Dance Dance Revolution, and children cheering. 

Logan, Patton, and Roman ordered a pizza, then Logan slid into a booth while Roman and Patton went off to play some games, trusting that the couple would find him later, to enjoy a slice of pizza with him before he had to leave. 

He constantly checked the time on his phone or looked for Patton and Roman, as if he would be able to see them coming from such a distance. The pizza arrived at their table before the couple returned, and Logan plated himself a couple of the greasy slices. He wiped his fingers on a paper napkin, his nose crinkled in disgust at the slick feeling on his fingers. He pressed more napkins to the pizza, his nose still wrinkled in disgust as the napkin soaked up the grease and became wet and heavy. 

He finally took his first bite of pizza as Patton and Roman came to Logan’s booth, chests heaving as they took in gulping breaths of air. “I won,” Roman informed Logan breathlessly, as he grabbed a slice of pizza and slid into the booth. He took a bite of pizza then a large sip of soda as Patton took a slice of pizza for himself and slid in next to Roman. 

“Am I to assume you played Dance Dance Revolution?” Logan asked in response, after swallowing another bite of his pizza and checking the time on his phone. 

“Mhm,” Patton replied, his purple lips wrapped around the straw of his fruit punch. 

“I’m glad the two of you enjoyed yourselves. I need to head out, but I’m glad we’ve gotten to spend the day together. Try not to wear yourselves out and spend too much money here, and text me when you’re on your way home, okay?” 

“Okay, mom,” Roman groaned sarcastically, coaxing a smile out of Patton. Logan rolled his eyes fondly. He knew they would do as he asked. Logan took another bite of pizza, before picking up his paper plate and paper cup filled with ice water. 

“I'll see you both later.” The other two boys nodded, pizza hanging from their mouths and secured in the grips of their hands. Logan walked away from them and out of the door of the pizza place. The sun was blindingly bright, so Logan had to squint as he made his way to the coffee shop. 

The next part was routine. He slipped into line next to Virgil, Virgil gave the barista the code order, they both stepped off to the side and received the signal from the barista that they were okay to go down, then they slipped through the back door. 

When the door closed behind them, unlike the previous couple times when Logan had come on his own, they had light to guide their way down the steps. Janus was open for business, just as he’d said he would be. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Remus is kinda a dick in this one because he's stupid (he intrudes on Logan's boundaries), panic attack

Janus came out from the back of his shop to greet Logan and Virgil. Virgil could tell that Janus looked happy. He was sure that Janus was happy to see Logan and not _him_ , but that wasn’t important. What _was_ important was why Janus had wanted him to come in the first place. Logan hadn’t specified the kind of business, beyond potion making, and Janus hadn’t answered his texts when he’d texted him to ask. 

“Why am I here, Janus?” Virgil asked, a hint of a bite in his voice, before Janus could step around the counter to hug Logan in greeting or whatever it was that the two of them were doing, now that they were so buddy-buddy. 

“Remember that potion that led to your introduction to the brilliant Logan... uh...” Janus said, his voice trailing off as he realized he didn’t know Logan’s last name. 

Even if he had, he probably still would have trailed off, noticing the pop of color on Logan’s full lips. His brain short-circuited, thoughts flooding with words Patton might playfully scold him for, such as “fuck I’m so fucking gay” and thoughts Remus might be proud of, such as, “I wonder what his lips would feel like on m-” 

“Aster,” Logan responded. His cheeks turned a bright shade of pink at the compliment, and his head ducked in an attempt to hide them. As he did, Janus finally pulled his gaze away from Logan’s pretty blue lips and pretty pinkish cheeks... 

“I remember,” Virgil said. “What about it?” 

“Well, the client you delivered it to told me he’d be coming back for another supply. A weeks’ worth, if I’ve got it,” Janus explained, back to business as if he hadn’t had a brief moment of gay panic. 

“And what does that have to do with me?” 

“I don’t _have_ a week’s worth.” 

“I _gave_ you a week’s worth.” 

“Yeah, well...” Janus’ gloved hand raised to rub at the back of his neck. Virgil’s eyes widened, and he muttered a profanity. 

“ _Please_ tell me you didn’t sell the whole week’s worth and expect me to magically be able to make another batch of that size in... how long would I have?” 

“I’m not sure. He didn’t give an exact time of arrival.” Virgil swore more. 

“I swear to Circe and Hecate and Merlin and the Devil, himself, I’ll kill you,” Virgil growled. Janus raised his hands in surrender, but it was no use. Virgil tackled him to the ground. Logan didn’t know what to do. Virgil didn’t appear to be throwing punches, nor did Janus. Janus appeared to be allowing himself to be laid on top of, not complaining at the pain that being slammed into the ground must have shot up his back. 

Both boys sneered at each other, eyebrows raising and lowering as if they were having a conversation that Logan couldn’t understand. _Or maybe they could read each other’s minds?_ Almost anything was possible with magic, Logan knew. 

Which was why Logan couldn’t understand why Virgil couldn’t whip up the batch. Sure, it would take a while, but he was even more practiced at making it now than he had been the first couple of times. And if Janus offered to help and Logan provided guidance however he, without magic, could, shouldn’t they be able to rise up to the challenge and complete the task? 

Logan didn’t know why his mouth didn’t open and express his thoughts. He didn’t know why he could only stare at Virgil laid on top of Janus and the sneers and glares slowly slipping off of their faces as they calmed down. (Logan had no idea what kind of conflict resolution _this_ was.) 

After another moment, in which the air was charged with something that definitely didn’t feel like hatred, Virgil stood. He held out a hand, which Janus took, and pulled Janus up to also standing. “Alright, let’s go,” Virgil said, his hand still holding Janus’. Janus was dragged along to wherever Virgil was headed, and Logan had no choice but to follow them. And as much as he would’ve liked to, he didn’t ask any questions, and he didn’t stop at the bookshelf to return the books he borrowed and pick up the next few. 

The three boys walked into the back room where Virgil and Logan had conducted the blood oath, Janus had been a snake, and Logan had cared for Janus while he regained control over his human limbs. Virgil pulled out his books and notebooks, along with a few ingredients. Janus grabbed other ingredients and supplies from around the room. ( _Maybe Virgil had often made potions in this room, too?_ ) 

Virgil and Janus sat at the table, leaving Logan to awkwardly stand and watch them. And if he’d felt awkward earlier that day as he shadowed Roman and Patton, he felt much more awkward now.

At least Patton and Roman and kept him in the loop. Logan had no idea what was going on here. He couldn’t even begin to understand the silent way Janus and Virgil communicated with each other. He had the smallest of grasps on Patton and Roman’s own silent (couple - _were Janus and Virgil a couple?_ Logan didn't know why that made his stomach swirl like he was nauseous) language, since he’d been around them long enough the past few months. 

Logan watched the two boys work. He still couldn’t understand why he didn’t just speak up, offer his assistance, remind them that he was still there. 

Janus had been so happy to see Logan at first, but suddenly, Virgil had all of Janus’ attention. The swirling of Logan's stomach was persistent. He let out the softest of sighs. 

He silently slipped out of the room. He put Janus’ books back on the bookshelf and grabbed the next three in the series, slipping them into his backpack and feeling even more weighed down than before. He would have to remember to ask Virgil to redo the charm on his bag. 

When he turned away from the bookshelf, back in the direction of the even-further-back room, he was met with a pair of crazed, bright green eyes that could only belong to Remus. “Hello, Remus,” Logan said, taking a step back. But not because he was afraid. No sir. Only because Remus was very much invading his personal space bubble. “Janus is in the back room, if you’re looking for him.” 

“Oh, I know that,” Remus responded, grinning. “But he’s busy with Virgil, and I figured I’d better leave them alone before I see things I don’t wanna see.” Logan raised a brow in curiosity. He had no idea to what Remus could be referring. Virgil and Janus were just making a potion. Logan knew of Remus’ penchant for jokes that were sexual in nature, but Logan didn’t see how potion making could equate to having sexual intercourse or serve as something _leading up to_ sexual intercourse. 

“So you came to pester me, instead.” 

“It’s not pestering if you _enjoy_ it, Logie.” 

“Don’t call me that. And I have never expressed my enjoyment of your company.” 

“But you haven’t pushed me away~” Remus’ voice was sing-song. He took a step closer to Logan, as if silently daring him to actually push him away. In response, Logan rolled his eyes and stepped back. Remus took another step forward, grinning again. “We can play this game all day, if you like. I quite enjoy it.” Logan sighed. He knew he could only afford to step back one last time before his back hit the bookshelf and he was trapped like a bird in a cage with no escape. 

Logan met Remus’ eyes, as if silently daring him to take another step forward and see if Logan would push him, then. He was sure Remus wouldn’t actually do it. He was sure Remus wouldn’t actually do anything to him. Remus wasn’t that kind of person. He was a jokester. His jokes were never physical. He would back away if Logan genuinely expressed that he was uncomfortable. 

And of course, Logan _was_ uncomfortable with Remus in his personal space bubble, but he would become even more uncomfortable – uncomfortable enough to actually acknowledge it and say so – if he took that last step back and Remus took a final step forward, trapping them both in Logan’s personal space bubble, not giving Logan any room to escape. 

They stood there, staring into each other’s eyes, at a stalemate. Neither boy, it seemed, was going to move or speak. They became less aware of any noises that might be coming from the even-further-back room, where Janus and Virgil were making the batch of potions for Virgil’s customer. 

“They’re making a potion,” Logan finally whispered, shattering the silence, but not whatever tension was hanging in the air above them. He was referring to Virgil and Janus, as if returning to their conversation about why Remus didn’t go join Janus and Virgil in the even-further-back room. “They have a large batch they need to make, and they could probably use your expertise.” And in a way, this was Logan expressing his discomfort at Remus’ close proximity to him. As if knowing this, Remus took a couple steps back. Logan felt like he could breath. The thick tension in the air dissipated. 

“And you can’t help them with that, can you, mortal boy?” Remus asked in response. “So you’ve gotta come back out here to your books.” Logan didn’t know if this was Remus trying to get a rise out of him or what. 

“Why did you come to speak with me, Remus?” Logan asked bluntly. 

“I can’t have a conversation with my _favorite_ nerd?” Logan sighed at Remus’ answer. Of _course_ Remus would be the type of person to _not_ give a straight answer. 

“Perhaps I should watch over the front of the shop for the arrival of Virgil’s customer.” 

“Can I come with you?” _Why was Remus asking him? Remus could do almost whatever he liked. And he often did._ Logan’s response was a shrug, as he stepped away from Remus. He walked to the front of the shop and hoisted his heavy bag onto the countertop. Next, he swung himself up onto the countertop, sitting criss-cross-applesauce. He was facing the door of the shop, as if he had good enough vision to be able to make out whoever might appear at the top of the steps. 

Remus didn’t appear to have joined him. Maybe he’d gone to help Virgil and Janus, after all. Logan didn’t mind. He might have been a bit relieved by it, if only because of the encounter they'd just concluded.

Logan pulled out one of the new books he was borrowing and buried his nose in it, keeping his ears open for the sound of footsteps, especially those that would signal the arrival of a customer. 

Logan didn’t know how long he’d been reading or how many pages he’d read, when a familiar voice, from somewhere in front of Logan, called out, “J.J., are you here?” It must have been the customer. 

Logan closed his book as footsteps skipped up to the counter. “You’re not J.J.,” the customer said. Logan kept his head down, looking at the cover of the book, but he knew that his black hair looked nothing like Janus’ own signature black hat. But Logan recognized the voice. It was Patton’s. 

A second set of footsteps approached the counter. Logan recognized both pairs of shoes, and he was so shocked at who they belonged to that he needed to look up to confirm it, his eyes wide. 

“Logan?” Patton asked, recognizing him immediately. The other person’s jaw metaphorically dropped to the floor. Muttered profanities came from behind Logan, before Logan felt the presence of someone behind him and warm breath brushing against his neck as the person behind him looked at Patton over Logan’s shoulder. 

“ _There_ you are,” Patton said, smiling, as Janus made his appearance known. He opened his arms for a hug. 

“This is a business call only, Patton,” Janus responded, voice cool and silky smooth, not moving from his place behind Logan. “Roman,” Janus said in the same tone, nodding his head toward the boy standing next to Patton, his chin brushing Logan’s shoulder. 

“ _Roman_?” Remus’ voice called out, incredulously but with that same sort-of-crazy lilt his voice typically had, from somewhere in the back of the shop. A hurried set of footsteps sounded, then a head of curly hair brushed Logan’s opposite ear. He knew it was Remus. 

He began to feel a bit overwhelmed by so many people in his personal space bubble. His breath came out in a wheeze. Patton could see the panic in Logan’s eyes, behind the frames of his glasses. 

“Step away from him,” Roman said, his voice sounding borderline threatening, speaking the words before Patton could. (Though Patton would have done it in a much calmer manner, explaining how Logan was beginning to feel uncomfortable.) 

“Or what?” Remus challenged, pressing his chin to Logan’s shoulder. Apparently he _would_ do something. _Or did he just not notice how Logan tensed?_ Janus seemed to. He stepped away. He stepped over to Patton and allowed his twin to wrap him into a hug. 

“How’d you hold up this time?” Patton asked softly, referencing Janus’ curse, brushing a hand along Janus’ scales, while Remus and Roman had a stare-down that Logan was caught in the middle of. He felt like he had swallowed thorns and like his mouth was glued shut. Like his whole body was glued into this stiff position and his bottom was glued to the countertop so he couldn’t hop down from the counter, into the safety of Roman and Patton’s presence, compared to Remus’, which seemed so suffocating in this instance. 

Janus’ response faded into the background, and so did anything Remus and/or Roman might have said. Logan’s vision tunneled, became black at the edges. He still couldn’t move or speak. 

“That’s enough!” Virgil’s voice said. It sounded much louder to Logan than it actually was, as it cut through the fog in his mind. His vision slowly faded back to normal. Remus stepped away from him. Logan felt the thorns leave his throat, and he quickly gulped in breaths of air. “You’re so fucking _stupid_ , Remus,” Virgil hissed, hitting the boy upside the head and roughly shoving him into the back of the shop with him. Maybe to help him finish up the batch of potions, but definitely to get him away from Logan. 

Logan didn’t see Patton step away from Janus and Roman and to the side of the counter that Remus had just vacated. But he heard his voice. Gentle, questioning. “Can I hug you?” 

Logan didn’t have an answer. He was still gulping in breaths of air. His body no longer felt glued together and stiff, but he was shaking a bit now. “Okay,” Patton said, more to himself than to Logan. “I won’t touch you,” Patton said to Logan. “But breathe with me, okay? In for four.” Patton took an exaggerated breath of air. Logan tried to breathe in for the full four seconds, finding that, in his panic, he could only make it to two. It didn’t help the panic. “That’s okay. Try again.” 

Patton’s voice was kind. Logan focused on it, and he also focused on counting in his head and breathing with the counts. Still, it was some time before he’d calmed down. 

When he noticed that Logan was calm, Patton didn’t ask how Logan felt or what had triggered his panic. Logan was grateful for it. He wasn’t sure if he would have an answer. After all, to someone like Patton who loved hugs and other forms of affection, the idea of a personal space bubble would seem silly, and a violation of one, even more so. 

Logan met Janus’ concerned eyes, and he watched as they flickered with something like understanding. As if Janus, too, had his own personal space bubble. But he seemed more like he’d become accustomed to it being violated. Or maybe he never felt like his was truly violated, considering he’d grown up alongside touchy-feely Patton. 

“Are you alright, Logan?” Roman asked kindly, not bothering with a playful nickname. 

“I am... adequate,” Logan responded, after taking a deep breath and finding his voice. “I don’t know what came over me. My apologies.” 

“You have no reason to apologize, Logan. It’s alright,” Patton and Janus said at the same time, their voices seeming to meld into one like the creepy twins from The Shining. Roman’s eyes widened, so he must have made the same connection. 

“ _Hec_ ate,” Roman exclaimed. “I didn’t believe you were twins, but that was creepy as hell.” Completely unrelated to Roman’s exclamation, a bunch of dots connected in Logan’s head. 

_Roman was Virgil’s customer. Roman knew about magic. Based on his swear using the goddess Hecate’s name, similar to what Virgil had done earlier, Roman must have been a part of the magical community. Roman and Remus knew each other. They weren’t friends, but they were connected to each other._

_The boys had the same curly hair, the same green eyes. They were_ _, at least, brothers. Twins, perhaps._

_They both had magic. Logan was the only one who’d been kept out of this massive web of links. He was the only one of them without magic._

Logan tucked the book in his backpack as all these realizations came to him. He wanted to ask about it, confirm them all, but he didn’t know how to. 

“I suppose we’ve got a lot to explain, huh?” Patton finally said to break the silence that seemed to stretch over the group. His voice was awkward, with a hint of an awkward laugh hidden in it. The phrase was directed at Logan. Logan was sure that Patton must have believed that Logan was a part of their world and had never told him, just like Patton hadn’t told Logan. 

“I believe we do,” Logan responded. “We were all going to stay in our dorm tonight, so after Virgil and Remus finish up Roman’s potions – I assume they’re for Roman, anyway-” 

“They are,” Roman interrupted. 

“-We can head home together and have the discussion,” Logan finished, brushing over Roman’s interruption. Roman and Patton nodded their agreement. Janus stepped away from the couple and back to Logan. He was careful to keep his distance from Logan, not wanting to send him into another panic. 

“Did you grab the books already?” Janus whispered to Logan, his voice soft. 

“I did. Thank you, Janus,” Logan responded, voice also a whisper and also soft. 

“I’ll go check on the potions,” Janus said louder, to Roman and Patton, and not to Logan. Logan hopped down from the counter as if to follow Janus, even though he must have known that he would have to encounter Remus. Maybe that’s why he did it. Maybe that’s why he followed Janus into the even-further-back room, where Virgil and Remus were working on the last of the batch of the potion. 

Virgil noticed Janus and Logan’s presence immediately and knocked his shoulder against Remus’ roughly. “What?” Remus asked harshly, before looking up and noticing Logan standing in the doorway, even though Janus had joined Virgil and Remus at the table to help. Remus’ features instantly softened. “I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable, Logan,” Remus told the boy, sounding more gentle and genuine than even Virgil or Janus had ever heard him. “I’ll be sure not to do it again.” 

“Thank you, Remus,” Logan responded, also genuine, though he didn’t step any further into the room. Remus could understand that, though. They didn’t know each other very well, and Remus had completely violated the little trust Logan had had towards him. Remus turned away from Logan to focus back on finishing up the potion. 

When it was finished, Logan followed the other three boys out of the room and back to the front of the shop, where Patton and Roman stood, waiting, in whispered conversation. A part of Logan wondered if they were talking about him, considering how the whispers stopped when the four boys had stepped into the room. But Logan had never had that kind of thought before. Virgil had the same thought, but _he_ was used to it. 

Janus completed the transaction, taking Roman’s money then handing him the batch of potions. He didn’t bother with a “Have a nice day!” or anything of the sort. Neither did Virgil. Remus gave a wide grin and a cheerful wave, as Logan joined Roman and Patton at the opposite side of the counter. 

Logan was sure the wave wasn’t directed at him, though. Not if Remus was worried about potentially making him uncomfortable. It was probably directed at Roman. 

“I’ll see you soon, Logan,” Janus said kindly, softly, as Logan, Patton, and Roman turned away from the boys behind the counter. “I’ll be looking forward to it.” 

“As will I,” Logan said, his voice equally as soft, before following after Roman and Patton and leaving Janus’ shop. 

*** 

“Alright, so how do you know Janus?” Roman asked, his voice loud and a hint demanding, as soon as he stepped over the threshold to Patton and Logan’s dorm room, not even giving Logan, who was at the back of their line (the order through the door being Patton, who had unlocked the door, Roman, and lastly, Logan), the chance to step inside the dorm room. 

“Roman,” Patton reprimanded gently, pulling his boyfriend out of the doorway so Logan could step through. Logan did, biting back a remark about how he was sure the whole neighborhood had probably heard Roman’s question, so could he _please_ lower his voice? 

The three boys sat on the couch. The room was silent, as if Roman and Patton were both expecting Logan to answer the question Roman had asked. As if they had planned to have this conversation the moment they had all stepped through the door, ignoring dinner or the fact of why Roman needed the batch of potions (though Logan was sure he could wager a guess as to the answer to that). As if they expected Logan to tell his side of the story first, and not them tell him either of theirs. 

Regardless, Logan was silently gathering up his thoughts. Roman’s question was simultaneously simple and complicated to answer. Finally, Logan began speaking, spinning a story. 

He told Roman and Patton, firstly, about his introduction to Virgil, then his introduction to Janus, and the visits he’d paid to Janus’ shop since – getting closer to Janus, learning more about magic, and meeting Remus. He made sure they knew that he wasn’t a part of their world, but he _had_ been trusted with the secret – taken a blood oath – and he was fascinated with everything he had learned and seen about their world. 

And finally, Logan had told them everything. And now, he had a question to ask them. 

“Do you both have magic?” he asked. “Were you both born into this world of magic?” Well, that was two questions. And realistically, he was sure the answer to both was a resounding ‘yes,’ considering their relation to Remus and Janus, who could both do magic. 

( _Actually, had Logan ever seen Janus do magic? Janus had said he could, but Logan didn’t think he’d ever seen it. Janus and Virgil could have been lying to him, then._ ) 

Roman and Patton looked at each other, then, a question in their eyes, as if they suddenly worried about trusting Logan, their best friend for months. As if they doubted that he had taken the blood oath, that he’d sworn to keep their secret. As if they were worried that their answer would change Logan’s opinion of them. But at the same time, Roman had always had a flare for the dramatics. 

“Yes,” he responded first, opening his hand and wordlessly producing a flame in the palm of it. On paper, it seems like a calm gesture, but Roman was _very_ dramatic about it. 

“Put that _out_ , Roman,” Logan told Roman, before turning his gaze to Patton, who hadn’t yet answered the question. Logan noted how both of the Reyes brothers liked fire. And also how Roman could cast at least one spell wordlessly, whereas Remus could not. 

Logan decided, then, he’d look into the lore of _that_ next. 

_How easy_ was _it to cast a wordless spell, especially after casting a spell using the associated word or phrase for so long? Could_ all _spells be cast wordlessly?_ _Was_ _it something you learned to do, or was it an innate ability and you simply practiced and improved it over time?_

Logan’s thoughts had gotten the better of him, his gaze on Patton’s face, but not focused. It was Patton’s voice that finally pulled him out of his thoughts. Patton had finally given Logan his answer. 

“No,” he said, answering Logan's first question. Logan startled, both at being pulled out of his thoughts and at the unexpected answer. 

“ _No_?” Logan repeated, obviously dumbfounded. Even Roman looked confused. 

“But I’ve seen-” Roman sputtered, also looking Patton’s way now. 

“Could you please elaborate, Patton?” Logan asked calmly. Patton appeared to have flushed under the attention his way. That was new. But then again, so was Logan making an incorrect hypothesis. And so, too, must have been Patton keeping a secret from Roman. 

Patton wasn’t good with secrets. He was notorious for that. And yet, he’d kept the secret of his knowledge of the magic world from Logan and his inability to _perform_ magic from Roman. So apparently, people weren’t often as they seemed. Logan would have to try to remember that. And, he’d have to try to remember to ask Janus the same question. He’d have to get the truth from Janus, whatever it was. 

“No,” Patton repeated, as if he, too, needed the answer to sink in. Then, he was silent, taking the time to formulate his own story. Roman and Logan turned away from him, allowing him the sort-of-private to think. “I don’t have magic, but there are plenty of spells that non-magic folk can perform, especially with the right tools from magic folk. And my brother owns a shop full of those kinds of things, so of course, I _could_ perform _some_ magic.” 

“Wait, but didn’t you...?” Roman began, thinking back to the one and only time he had seen Patton do magic. It hadn’t been very long ago, actually. Roman had accidentally let it slip that Patton couldn’t come to Roman’s apartment, because Remus was eccentric. And eccentric in a ‘uses magic to cause strange mischief’ way. And Patton had noticed the slip-up, had assured Roman, as soon as Roman started rambling about how he’d fucked up and how Patton would have to take a blood oath, or Roman would have to wipe his memory of the conversation... that Patton already knew. 

Relieved, Roman showed Patton his own magic in action. Just as he’d shown Logan, he conjured a flame in the palm of his hand. Patton’s reaction had seemed instinctual. His hand raised over Roman’s, his palm pouring out water like it was a faucet. “You doused my flame without even thinking about it,” Roman continued. “Water just poured out of your hand. That’s not a spell someone without magic could perform. Non-magic folk are only able to perform simple spells that require elaborate set-ups.” 

“Not if you’re non-magic folk with magic blood,” Patton explained. 

“What does that mean?” Logan asked. His voice seemed to serve as a reminder to the couple that he was there, too. 

“It’s a bit of lore that not many know about – for obvious reasons.” To Logan, they weren’t very obvious. His brow raised subconsciously. Patton noticed. “It’s just that, well, a lot of people have even a bit of magic in their blood, from generations way past. Sort of like...” Patton tried to think of an analogy that Logan might understand. Patton was sure Roman was able to understand already, considering he’d grown up around magic. “In _Harry Potter_ , Muggleborns have a magical ancestor somewhere in their lineage. It’s the same sort of thing. But there has to be a certain percentage in your blood to be able to have a stronger handle on magic, despite the fact that you don’t actually have it.” Logan looked even more confused. Patton sighed. 

“Both of my parents are magic,” Roman said, hoping to explain what Patton had been trying to. “And so were many generations before them. Magic runs in our blood. Sort of like the purebloods in _Harry Potter._ But anyway, that means Remus and I have magic in our blood. An extremely high percentage of it. So we’re attuned to the ley lines that give magic folk their powers.” 

“Wait,” Logan said. “Ley lines? Your world is a mix of all sorts of media. _Harry Potter_ , Lost...” 

“Where do you think all the greats drew their inspiration from? You’re reading Janus’ biographies collection, aren’t you? Have you gotten to Shakespeare yet? _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_ is my favorite.” 

“ _Spoilers_!” Patton cried out, lunging to block Logan’s ears, as if the damage hadn’t already been done. He paused before he could actually touch Logan. And with a goofy smile Logan’s way, he pulled back from Logan and sunk back into his seat. Patton and Roman tried to ignore how Logan's body had stiffened.

“Back to my explanation,” Roman said uneasily. The room was silent, a little tense. He spoke again, hoping to clear it. “As far as I know, Patton and Janus have one magical parent. So their magical blood percentage is fifty. The odds were that one of them would have magic and the other not – even though they’re twins – and such was the case.” Looks like Logan wouldn’t have to ask Janus that question, after all. “But since Patton’s blood percentage is so high, it makes sense that, even without magic, he wouldn’t need all the fancy ceremony to cast simple spells. But it would certainly be draining.” Roman’s eyes widened suddenly, as if in realization of something. “That’s why you passed out on the couch as soon as we were done with our discussion, that time,” Roman said to Patton. Patton nodded in response. 

“Okay, but does that make sense?” Roman asked Logan. Logan nodded. But now, he had another question. 

“So there’s the possibility that I could do magic?” he asked. 

“That depends on your family. On your magical blood percentage. Obviously, it would be pretty diluted, since you knew nothing about our world. I’d say that maybe at least one of your great-grandparents or even older than that could have had magic, but... you figure out the math on that one, Calculator Watch.” 

“Twelve-point-five percent or less, decreasing by half with each new generation.” 

“Right,” Roman responded, with a shrug that showed he didn’t understand Logan’s “fancy” math. “So not very high. So probably not. But that’s okay. Because you can still do all the simple spells.” Roman gasped. “ _We can_ teach _you some_.” He suddenly seemed very enthusiastic. 

“Not tonight,” Patton said calmly, reigning in Roman’s enthusiasm. “And not if Logan doesn’t consent to it. He’s got a lot of information to take in. Let’s call for pizza, shall we?” 

“We had pizza for... lunch,” Logan objected. 

“Takeout, then.” 

“We should have something healthy. We cannot eat all non-home-cooked meals today.” 

“But calling someone and placing an order is so much _easier_ ,” Patton whined. Roman patted Patton’s shoulder sympathetically, his eyes fond. 

“Maybe so. But if I make dinner, then you don’t even have to bother with a phone call. You and Roman could lay on the couch and do...” Logan’s voice, sounding so fond as he explained this, suddenly shifted to something like confusion, when he said this next bit, “...whatever it is you two do when I’m not around.” 

“You don’t want to know, I think,” Roman said. Patton flushed, burying his head in Roman’s shoulder. Logan stood. 

“Never mind, then.” Logan didn’t know Roman could make remarks that were sexual in nature. He never had before. Remus had. And Logan had sort of begun to separate the brothers by their differences, despite how little he actually knew about Remus. “What would you like to eat?” Patton mumbled something into Roman’s shoulder. Probably... 

“Pasta?” Logan asked, to clarify. 

“Pasta,” Roman agreed, on behalf of both himself and Patton. 

“I’ll get started on that, then. Spaghetti okay?” 

“Always.” Logan nodded, before slipping out of the room to go prepare dinner for the three of them, leaving Patton and Roman to their own devices. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty heavy. So, firstly, **disclaimer:** I’ve never experienced physical abuse, so I apologize if my portrayal of it is inaccurate, overdramatic, or offensive. Additionally, you’re not supposed to get therapy from someone close to you because of breach of ethics and biases, but let’s just ignore that fact for the sake of this fic, shall we?
> 
>  **Warnings:** referenced physical abuse, referenced domestic abuse, Logan is in a bad state of mind this chapter
> 
> I'll have a summary in the end notes if anyone needs to skip this chapter. Please don't force yourself to read something that'll be detrimental to your mental health! Take care of yourself!

Logan’s fingers tapped the keys with fury. His back was straight and his eyes were glazed over as he stared ahead, as if his fingers were making a rhythm he had known for a long time. And, well, he had. 

He’d been tapping this rhythm out on a keyboard for as long as he could remember. He’d been taking piano lessons for as long as he could remember. Even now that he was in college, he was enrolled in a piano class that was specifically for piano (music) majors. 

Growing up, he’d hated the slow way his teacher taught him, as if unaware, even after years and years of having him as a pupil, that he was a fast learner. She’d had him playing this piece – [Chopsticks](https://youtu.be/JM5fjgiFrxg), such an easy piece - for so many weeks that he’d begun to hear it in his sleep when he was a lot younger. 

But why was he playing it now? 

He didn’t know. He had pieces he could be practicing for the recital in a couple weeks' time. He had homework he could be doing, exams he could be studying for, books on magical lore he could be reading. 

So why, then, was he banging Chopsticks on a piano? 

Logan sighed. His eyes lost the glazed over look. His posture never faltered. He took another deep breath, filling up his lungs, somehow straightening his back even more. He wiggled his fingers before hovering them above specific keys. 

Now, he was getting to his recital pieces. The music majors in the hallway of the music building had probably grown tired of his angry banging of Chopsticks on the piano (especially since banging on a piano was frowned upon. But Logan had just felt the _urge_ to bang, and he had no idea why. All he knew was that music was an outlet for the emotions that he didn’t quite understand). 

The [first piece](https://youtu.be/neMPMuDanFw) he played was something drastically different from that angry banging. It was smooth notes, crescendos and decrescendos of sound. Almost a melancholic, reminiscent feeling. 

Logan had played the piece before, but his piano teacher had wanted him to perform the piece anyway. Logan played the piece differently than he had, years ago, when he was much younger and still had much to learn. There was more relaxation to it, now. Not so much focus on the technique, but more on the release of emotions, on Logan’s personal interpretation of the piece. 

The piece was over before Logan knew it, but his hands had moved on autopilot to the next one. [This piece](https://youtu.be/lccVbc05AYA) was new to him. He’d never heard it before his teacher had played him an excerpt, insisting that Logan would be able to learn the song. 

And now, two weeks before the recital, Logan found that his teacher was right. Sure, there was always room for improvement, but Logan was doing much better than on his very first read of the piece, where he had been focused on reading the notes, ignoring dynamic markings in favor of maintaining proper technique as his hands flew across the keys at breakneck speed. Now, his fingers knew the melody and exactly where to fly to, and he was able to focus more on the interpretation than on the technique. 

And after this song was completed, his fingers automatically slid to a new song, as if he was a record of classical pieces that left no break between each song. And [this song](https://youtu.be/8rFYR7pF7c0) wasn’t even on the list for his upcoming recital. Nor had it been on the list for his recital last semester. 

No, this was another piece from his childhood of lessons. It was the only piece that, despite the weeks his teacher had made him spend on it, explaining it to him like he was only five years old and still learning everything there was to know about playing such a complex instrument (he was _eleven_ , thank you very much!), he came to love. He was never sure why that was, but that made it no less true. 

So absorbed in his playing of the piece, Logan never heard the door click open and shut as someone stepped into the room with him. He honestly would have moved on to a fourth piece, his fingers already poised to start, except someone had begun clapping. 

Logan froze. _Had someone he didn’t know intruded on his space? What kind of person entered a room without knocking?_ (As if Logan would have heard them knock.) _What would they have to say about his performance?_

They must have liked it, since they were clapping, but still, Logan lowered his head in shame and his hands into his lap, folding them. 

“That was really good, Lo,” Patton’s voice said from somewhere behind Logan, always cheerful. “I didn’t mean to intrude, really. But you said you’d be here, and the piece you were playing sounded so pretty. What’s it called?” Logan looked up from his lap, but he couldn’t meet Patton’s eyes. He didn’t know why. Patton was his _best friend_. And, Patton had said he’d _enjoyed_ the piece. He’d enjoyed it so much he wanted to know what it was called, presumably so he could listen to it on his own time. 

“Why are you here?” Logan asked instead, trying to ease a bit of bitterness in his voice to block out all the emotions his piano playing had released from him. 

“J.J. texted me.” Patton’s voice had that fatherly concern in it. “He said he hasn’t seen you since the time we were all there.” 

“So what?” Logan’s voice was fully bitter, now. 

“I think he’s worried about you, Lo-lo. He said you’re usually done with your books quicker than this.” 

“Yes, well, it’s exam season, now. And recital season. I don’t have as much time to read his little books.” 

“Those things are certainly not _little_ ,” Patton joked, hoping to see Logan smile, rather than continue to hear this bitterness in his voice. _Was it because Patton had interrupted his impromptu piano concert?_

He had no such luck changing Logan’s mood even remotely, however. Patton sighed. “He said he texted you, but you didn’t answer. I’d assume this is why,” he continued. Patton was silent for a moment, waiting for a confirmation from Logan that never came. “Is everything okay?” Logan still hadn’t looked at him. Logan still said nothing. 

“Let’s go home,” Patton said softly, trying not to cry now. He didn’t know how to help Logan, but Logan looked like he needed help, someone to talk to, someone to cry to, and Patton wanted to provide anything Logan needed and more. His heart broke for his best friend, who must have been repressing his emotions so much that the only time they were really, truly, free was when he was sat in front of a piano and his fingers and mind were one, running on autopilot. “Can I touch you?” Logan was still silent, his body completely still. Patton had to take that as a ‘no,’ because Logan hadn’t given him an explicit answer, and so that _always_ meant no. Consent was _very_ important. 

“I’m not going to leave you here, Lo,” Patton told Logan. He took a deep breath, and it was shaky. He’d never seen Logan like this. Then again, he’d never walked in on one of Logan’s practice sessions. He’d never wanted to bother Logan, when Logan had, at first, been reluctant to share that part of himself with Patton. In fact, Patton had only found out, because the poster for last semester’s recital had had Logan’s name on it – among the names of other students and their piano teacher – and Roman had seen the poster in the theatre building. And of course, Roman had confronted Logan, and Patton had been in the room, quick to calm Roman down. 

“Let’s go home,” Patton repeated. He was still stood by the door. He’d made no move to even _approach_ Logan. _Logan_ , who, so usually guarded, cool, and collected, looked so _broken_. “You can eat Crofter’s jelly straight from the jar,” Patton said with a watery laugh at the image of Logan spooning Crofter’s jam – his favorite – out of the jar like a madman or a starved child. Except, not even that seemed to appeal to Logan. And so, Patton felt lost. He didn’t know how to take care of this. He didn’t know how to help Logan. 

Just like every other situation when Patton had needed help, his hands pulled out his phone and his fingers dialed a number that should have just been on Patton’s speed dial. He put the phone to his ear, listening to it ring, watching Logan, whose eyes had glazed over again. “J.J.,” Patton said, his voice sounding just as broken as Logan looked, when he heard his twin’s voice greet him from the other line. 

“What is it?” Janus asked, immediately concerned. “Do I need to send Remus to kill someone?” Patton’s eyes widened, a tear slipping out, even as the corner of his lips quirked up. 

“I just don’t know what to do.” Patton’s voice fell to a whisper. Even as his vision blurred with tears, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Logan. 

“Tell me what happened, and I’ll try my best to help you.” Janus was calm. He was _always_ calm. Patton was always so _emotional._ They balanced each other out. Patton loved that they did. 

“It’s Logan.” Janus was silent, waiting for Patton to continue, even though there was a part of him that wanted to bolt out of his shop, track Patton down, hug Patton, and help Logan however he could. “He’s not okay, but I’m not getting through to him. I shouldn’t have interrupted him.” 

“Where are you?” There were shuffling sounds on Janus’ end of the call. He must have been closing up shop, getting ready to head out and find Patton and Logan. 

“The college. Music building. Room, uh... Oh, _Hec_ ate, I didn’t check when I came in here. I was just peeping through all the doors like a creep, looking for Logan’s hair. I don’t even know how many doors down the room is.” 

“It’s okay, Patton. I’ll be there soon. Do you want to stay on the phone with me?” 

“Please? Can I put you on speaker? Maybe it’ll help Logan to hear your voice?” 

“Ask him, first. But if he doesn’t give you any sort of response, tell him that you’re going to, anyway. I don’t know how much my voice will help, but it might at least warn him that I’m coming, too.” Patton nodded. 

“Logan,” Patton said, after taking in a shaky breath of air. “I have Janus on the phone. Can I put him on speaker? Do you think hearing him will help you?” The room was silent. Patton pulled the phone from his ear, finger hovering over the speaker icon, when Logan’s voice sounded. 

“No.” It was dull, lifeless, and barely there, but Patton heard it. 

“He said no,” Patton told Janus. 

“I’ll be there in a few more minutes," Janus replied. "But you’ve gotten him to say something. Continue with yes or no questions and see if you can get other answers from him.” 

“Okay.” 

“I’ll be here on the phone the whole time.” 

“Okay.” Patton took another deep breath. When he spoke again, it was to Logan. “Are you mad at me for intruding on your practicing?” Silence. “You’re right. That was a bad question to ask. Even if you knew how you were feeling, you wouldn’t tell me that I was intruding.” Patton hated the tense silence that filled the air as he tried to think of a new question to ask Logan. 

“Can you stand up?” Patton asked. Maybe Logan would stand up as a non-verbal response, making it easier for him and Janus to later guide him back to the dorm room. 

“Yes,” Logan answered, his voice still flat. But he made no move to stand. 

“ _May_ you stand?” Patton tried, wondering if Logan had answered his question in a literal sense. In the sense of “I am physically capable of standing, yes, although I do not wish to, at this moment in time.” 

“No.” Another shaky breath from Patton. He hoped Janus wouldn’t be much longer. He hoped Janus would be able to help him. 

“Pretty please?” 

“No.” Logan’s voice was less flat, filled with more bitterness. Patton knew this was better than before. But he also knew that he didn’t want to make Logan mad. 

“Do you know what you want to eat for dinner?” 

“No.” 

“Do you think you would like it if I asked Janus to grab you a jar of Crofter’s on the way over here?” 

“Janus is coming?” More words from Logan, this time. That was definitely progress. Except, there seemed to be a sort of fear in his voice. _But Logan had no reason to be afraid of Janus, right?_ He’d come back to help Janus after seeing the full effects of his curse. _Why,_ now _, would he be scared of him?_

“He’s my older brother. I always call him when I need a helping hand.” 

“Must be nice to have real family you can rely on.” 

“Do you have any siblings?” Logan had never talked about his family before. Patton knew he probably shouldn’t push the issue, but he couldn’t help his curiosity. He was expecting Logan to slip on a mask, reconstruct his carefully-built walls, return to bitterness. He was expecting to be disappointed by another single-syllable answer from Logan. 

“Step-sibling,” Logan responded. It wasn’t a monosyllable answer, and yet, Patton was still disappointed, for some reason. 

“Would you like to tell me about them?” 

“No.” 

“Should I stop asking about your family?” 

“Yes.” 

“Janus, when will you be here?” Patton asked into the phone. 

“I’m entering the music building. Scales hidden, of course,” Janus responded. “It’s silent in here. If you play a few notes on the piano, I should be able to find you a little easier.” 

“You think so?” 

“We might as well try. Ask Logan if he’ll play something.” 

“Logan, may you pretty please play me the last piece you played, again?” The room was silent. But Patton saw Logan move slowly, as if his limbs were weighed down by lead. His fingers hovered over the keys. The room felt tense. And suddenly - even though Patton had watched Logan’s fingers slowly descend - two fingers played notes exactly two octaves apart. And then, they were moving on their own, with the natural rhythm of the piece. As if, instead of playing this piece to allow himself the vulnerability of his emotions, he was allowing his mind to become numb to them, as he went through the familiar motions of playing the song. 

Patton stepped aside as he heard the door click open behind him. The door clicked shut at the same moment Patton wrapped his arms around Janus, squeezing him as if he was a boa constrictor and Janus was his prey. 

Almost as soon as it began, the song ended, and Logan’s body stilled. This time, his fingers didn’t continue to the next piece in his muscle memory, aware of the ever-growing audience behind him. 

“Hello, Logan,” Janus’ cool voice said, shattering the silence that had settled in the room. “I would ask why you didn’t answer my text, but this gives me all the answer I need. You must have been too busy here to read the books I’d lent you. But no worries. I don’t need them back until you’re finished with them. I’ll know better, now, than to worry about you.” Patton looked at Janus, confused. He had no idea why his twin was saying these things. These weren’t comforting words, meant to wrap around you like a hug until you felt more at peace. 

“As you should,” Logan responded, voice flat again. “It's a lesson I wish Patton would learn.” 

“After seeing you like this, he might. He wouldn’t have called me here unless it was the very first time such a thing was happening.” 

“Perhaps you’re right.” The room fell into silence again. “Are we done here?” 

“You tell me, Logan. Are you ready to go back to your dorm?” Patton wanted to know why Logan was feeling this way, but he knew better not to press, and it seemed that Janus did, too. 

“Why should I?” 

“Where else would you go? You cannot sleep here.” 

“No offense to Patton, but he’s a ball of sunshine, and I don’t think I need that right now.” Patton’s mood fell, his posture slumping. “I need quiet, to ruminate on the thoughts that are troubling me. I need no comfort, just to ‘ride the wave’ – or however that saying goes.” 

“Would you prefer company while you do so? If not the physical closeness of someone, just the knowledge that someone else is there to help you maintain your physical well-being? And your mental well-being, should you choose to speak up about it?” Logan shrugged and sighed simultaneously. “Because if the answer were yes, you and I could stay at my shop tonight, and I could care for you as you had cared for me, when I was recovering from my curse. That's what friends do, after all. You said so yourself. And you also said we’re friends, unless I’ve done something recently to upset you?” 

“I don’t think so.” This was to Janus’ last remark only. Logan stood from the piano bench, pushing it forward. “Does your shop have the proper accommodations? If I remember correctly, you told me you don’t live in the shop. And when I found you, you were laying on a table, covered in blankets.” Patton’s tiny gasp indicated that he must not have known about Janus’ arrangement. If he had, he probably would have offered him a place on their couch, regardless of whether or not he’d known that Logan had known about the magical world and Janus’ curse. 

Janus had given Logan no answer, which he took to mean, ‘no.’ So he asked a different question, directed at Patton, this time. He turned his head slowly, facing Patton for the first time since the bubbly boy had entered the room. “If I... ask you to take me somewhere – no questions asked, no matter how far it is – would you?” Logan’s voice held a bit more emotion, but it was unidentifiable to him. Patton could hear the emotion in his tone, and he could identify Logan’s worry and his sadness at something. 

“Of course, Lo,” Patton responded. “Anywhere you’d like. Would you like to go now?” 

“Yes.” Logan’s head dipped in a nod, but never rose back up. Logan’s eyes were focused on the ground as he followed Janus and Patton out of the room. He followed them to the campus parking garage. He climbed into the passenger seat of Patton’s tiny car, and no one protested. 

“Where are we going?” 

“Can I see your phone?” Patton nodded, handing Logan his phone. Logan knew Patton’s password, of course. Sometimes, the boy was too trusting for his own good, but it appeared to come in handy, in this case. Logan opened up the GPS app and put in an address that the app calculated would be at least an hour-and-fifteen-minute drive. He set Patton’s phone down in the center console. 

Patton pulled out of the parking garage and allowed the GPS to take him to wherever Logan wanted/needed to go. The sun set, disappearing below the horizon, as Patton drove. The car was silent, aside from whatever pop song was playing from the pop radio station that Patton had chosen, occasionally interrupted by a mechanical female voice warning Patton when he would need to make a turn. Logan stared out the window, watching the scenery fly by, but not actually paying much attention to it. His eyes were glazed over again. He couldn’t identify the specifics of his emotions, but he knew that whatever ones he was feeling, in this instance, felt dreadful. 

And finally, Patton pulled up alongside a pale pink Victorian house with white trim. Logan was climbing out of the car as soon as it stopped, regardless of the fact that Patton hadn’t shut off the engine yet. Patton was quick to do so, however, and he and Janus were quick to follow Logan up to the front door, where the boy was knocking intensely, loudly, and repeatedly. 

His hand left the door for a longer moment, and the door opened. On the opposite side of the threshold was a man with brown hair streaked with honey highlights, fringe tucked behind his ear, and round pink glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. He didn’t ask who Logan was or why he was there, simply stepping aside to allow the three college boys entry as a man’s voice called out from somewhere in the house, his voice getting louder as if he was approaching the front door, “Who’s at the door, babe?” 

Logan, Patton, and Janus were all seated on the couch when the owner of the voice entered the room from the hallway next to the TV. The man who answered the door pressed it closed, before stepping up to the other man. “It’s alright, Remy,” the pink-bespectacled man soothed. “It’s just Logan and a couple friends.” Patton had no idea who these people were. He’d never met them, and Logan hadn’t mentioned them. 

“Could you get started on some tea for these boys?” the pink-bespectacled man continued, still speaking to the other man, who looked very distrusting of the three boys sitting on the sofa, his dark eyes narrowed with a glare that seemed as if it could kill. “Chamomile, if we have it.” The angry man nodded curtly. The pink-bespectacled man smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek in thanks. 

As the angry man left, the pink-bespectacled man took a seat in the rocking armchair next to the couch on which the three boys sat. He turned his body to face them. “Obviously, I know Logan,” he began. “But I haven't met either of you,” he said to Patton and Janus. Patton immediately held out his hand. 

“I’m Patton Mourier,” Patton introduced, shaking the man’s hand, a large smile on his face. Janus didn’t introduce himself. Or maybe he was waiting for Patton to. And, of course, Patton did. “And this is my twin brother, Janus,” Patton continued, gesturing to his brother. He, too, looked distrusting, his eyes hidden behind the brim of his hat, multi-colored eyes scanning the room for any sort of a threat. 

Janus was on edge, but he couldn’t explain why. He was biting back the urge to hiss like snake, to frighten off whatever predator was in this house. 

“Logan, may I ask why you’re here today?” the man asked, his voice sounding professional. _Was he a therapist? Had Logan had Patton drive him to a therapist’s house this evening?_

Logan looked up from the floor, the broken look in his eyes meeting the man’s own concerned gaze. “I see,” the man said. “Are you here to talk about it professionally, or do you need to talk about it as my brother?” _Brother? Was this the step-sibling Logan had mentioned earlier?_

“I’m sorry, what’s your name?” Janus asked quickly. He shut his mouth soon after, biting his forked tongue so he wouldn’t speak again. These people didn’t need to know that he couldn’t trust their house. 

“Emile Picani,” the man said, pushing up his glasses with a pencil he pulled out from behind his ear. There hadn’t been a pencil there before. _Did the man do this often? Had Logan just been this blind to the magic around him?_ “Logan’s step-brother.” 

“I don’t know if I want to talk about it,” Logan finally said, his voice slow, his words calculated. “But the memories are back with a vengeance. I feel so... wrong. Messed up. Disgusting.” 

“Remy, are you almost done with the-” Emile called out, as Remy stepped into the room with a tea tray in both hands. Emile sighed in relief. He knew the tea would help calm Logan down a bit, help him relax, help him open up a little bit more, perhaps. 

Remy set the tea tray on the coffee table. He was only a couple feet from Janus, and Janus couldn’t bite his tongue any longer. His suspicion and his feeling of being on-edge had increased ten-fold. He hissed, loudly, no longer hiding his glare as he directed it right at Remy. Remy met it with the same intensity, even as he stepped away, to stand next to Emile’s chair. 

“Naga,” Remy growled, eyes never leaving Janus. Emile placed a gentle hand on top of Remy’s own, which had come to rest on the arm of his chair. 

“And just what the hell are you?” Janus asked. He didn’t deny the accusation. But wait, _wasn’t he one of the magic folk, not a_ _naga_ _? (Naga were South(east)-Asian mythological beings.) And anyway, wasn’t Janus’ snake-ness because of a curse?_

Logan’s eyebrow raised in his confusion. It was the first hint of his normal self that Patton had seen tonight. 

Emile looked between the college boys and Remy. “Sweetheart, let’s not do this in front of Logan,” Emile warned, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of Remy’s hand. 

“I already know,” Logan told Emile, his voice flat. 

“This still isn’t something that should be dealt with right now. Right now, you’re here to talk to me, in whatever capacity you need to. If you’d rather the two of us go talk in private, you’d better hope your snake-friend will be calm enough to stay under Remy’s watchful eye.” Janus hissed in offense. 

“Is he always so... vicious?” Remy asked Logan. Logan looked over at him, wondering what exactly Remy was hiding from him. _How did he know about the magical world?_ It was obvious that he must have been the one to introduce Emile to it. _And what did he know about Janus?_

“They can stay,” Logan told Emile. He wasn’t quite sure if Janus could reign himself in, around what – _who_ – he must have been perceiving as a threat. Besides, they’d brought Logan here. The least he could do was let them know why. 

“Are you sure?” Emile asked. “In the past, you haven't let Remy stay to listen.” 

“And he cannot stay now. I’m assured doctor-patient confidentiality, and I am the one who chooses when I feel my confidentiality and privacy have been breached.” With his wordy sentences, Logan sounded much more like himself. 

“If you give me a moment, I can go grab your file, so we can review from the last time you were here.” 

“Don’t leave.” Logan’s voice bordered on a desperate beg and a sob. 

“Then I won’t go anywhere.” Remy did, however, so Logan could have his privacy. “Would you like me to help you through this as your brother? As someone who you trust to comfort you?” Logan shrugged. He didn’t know what he needed. But he knew what he wanted: the memories to leave his head, for none of it to have ever happened at all. As if able to sense this, Emile told Logan, sounding professional instead of brotherly, “You cannot change the past. But you have done very well to overcome it. It is natural for the memories to come back., especially if they have been brought about by a trigger. 

“Are you able to identify what might have triggered this? Do you know if it was a sudden or gradual take-over?” 

“Gradual,” Logan answered. _How hadn’t Patton noticed Logan getting worse? Should he have questioned Logan’s increase in coffee consumption, his locking himself in his room to study or leaving their dorm to go practice on a piano?_ Patton had just assumed he was overworking himself to prepare for his upcoming exams and recital. Sure, that might have been a cause of concern when it came to someone like Patton, but Patton knew that that kind of behavior was typical of Logan, around this time. “Since last week.” _What had Logan been doing last week?_

Janus came to a realization quickly. Last week was the last time Logan had been in his shop. Last week, he’d panicked at people being in his space, at people being way too close for comfort and not stepping away. 

_Did Logan have social anxiety or something?_ It wasn’t Janus’ place to ask. 

“If you wouldn’t like to give me specific details, at least tell me the bare minimum of what happened. I don’t need a ‘who,’ just a ‘what.’” 

“Too close,” Logan said, back to short phrases. 

“Non-consensual crossing of boundaries.” Emile said it like a fact, and Logan’s nod confirmed it. 

_Fucking Remus_ , Janus thought, ready to rip him a new one the next time he saw him. 

“But where had you drawn the boundary for this person?” Emile asked. 

“I barely knew them,” Logan responded, his voice a whisper. 

“They must have crossed this boundary pretty extremely, for it to bring back those traumatic memories.” 

“It wasn’t anything inappropriate. It’s just that I didn’t know them enough.” And Janus supposed that was true. Logan hadn’t shown any discomfort at Janus’ presence close behind him. Only when Remus had added himself to the mix, only when Remus continued to stay. “They didn’t do anything to me. So the emergence of these memories makes no sense. And yet, they won’t leave when I tell them that.” 

“Your boundaries were crossed in a huge way, just as they were, then. And even if not, I know you’re under a lot of stress with school right now. Sometimes, stress will heighten a situation, will magnify events. I know you were against it while you were a dependent of your mom and stepdad-” (Logan’s relation to Emile was due to his stepmom, who his father had married a couple years after his parents’ divorce at age five), “-but would you, now, like to consider-?” 

“No.” Logan’s voice was firm. 

“I could pay for it for you. I have my own medical insurance. I could put you on my plan, since you’re no longer on theirs.” 

“No,” Logan repeated. 

“Okay. I just think it would be good for you.” 

“I don’t want it.” 

“Okay,” Emile repeated. “Then I won’t push it. Would you like to tell your friends how they can not cross your boundaries in the future?” 

“They didn’t do it.” 

“I know. But I don’t think you’ve established boundaries with them before. While you are in this heightened state, it will be good to have them in place. It will continue to be good to have them, even after the memories leave you for a while. You know that, sometimes, it’s the people that are close to you that step over boundaries. Sometimes, they do it purposefully.” Logan shuddered. Emile hit the root of his problem head-on. He knew this, of course. Logan had told him everything, as his therapist. “Sometimes, they just don’t know any better. So help these friends of yours know better. They care about you.” 

“So did _he_ ,” Logan grumbled. 

“No, Logan, I don’t think he did. He was constantly pushing your boundaries, making you uncomfortable. He told your mom that you were-” Emile looked over at Patton and Janus, the latter of which looked ready to commit a murder (or send Remus out to do it on his behalf), “-just being too sensitive. That boys shouldn’t cry. No matter what kind of physical or emotional hurt they were feeling. And your mom let him control how you grew up. You were so young.” 

“Punishments were harsh,” Logan continued, his eyes glazed over, though he’d turned to face Patton and Janus. He was letting them see this part of himself. “And if I kept crying, he would make it worse. You'd think hitting me, increasing the number of hits each time. But when Mom was away, something else in him came alive. 

“He’d-” Logan’s voice cracked. He let out a growl of his own, feeling tears pricking his eyes and begging them not to fall. He couldn’t cry. Crying meant punishment. It meant- “-His hands on me, stripping me so it would really hurt.” Logan couldn’t continue. He’d been so young when it first happened. “And when he was done,” Logan said, as if he’d told them everything, “he’d clothe me and dress my wounds with a delicate touch. Such a shift from the person who, only moments before, had- And he’d assure me and Mom that I was alright, even when I couldn’t sit still at the dining room table because it hurt _so_ much. 

“He’d tell me he loved me, that it was for my own good, that I needed to learn not to cry, not to be shameful. By the time I was ten, I didn’t cry anymore. But the ’punishments’ still continued. He no longer gave me a reason why. I had to wonder what I was doing wrong. But at the same time, I’d grown so used to it that I just started to block it out. 

“The memories of everything he did to me have come back full force. Even now, I’m telling myself not to cry, because he might track me to here – even though he doesn’t know that my dad married Emile’s mom or that Emile lives here - and he might punish me again, whether or not he says my crying is the reason or because he’s just so fucking sick that he figuratively ‘gets off’ on it. 

“And I’ve been away from him for almost a year. I thought I might be starting to get better. I thought that maybe I could stay here during the summer, so I could get professional help from Emile and continue to get better, instead of going back there and facing him. 

“But just one intrusion of my fucking boundaries, and I’m a disaster.” Logan was crying now, tears streaming down his cheeks in rivulets. Patton would have loved nothing more than to hug him, rub his back comfortingly, but he wasn’t about to intrude on Logan’s boundaries. He’d had no idea that Logan had gone through any of this. Of course, Logan wouldn’t tell him. But wouldn’t Logan have preferred a single dorm? 

“Did you ever worry I might-?” Patton found himself asking, shattering the sad silence that had fallen over the room. 

“You’d have no reason to punish me.” 

“I don’t think those were punishments, Logan. He just framed it that way, because you were too young to understand what was happening, and he used it to manipulate your memories. You wouldn’t have understood that what he was doing was wrong until later in life. And by then, you’d be powerless to stop him.” Patton couldn’t understand what Logan was going through. But he’d taken a psychology course on trauma last semester (he’d needed the social science credits. He didn’t expect it to be such an upsetting course, or that he would need the knowledge from it so soon), and so he thought he could understand it from a professional standpoint, like Emile did. 

“Patton is right, Logan. But when I say this, I don’t mean to heighten your distrust in people. Because you probably won’t _ever_ find someone like him again. And we both know that you can trust people, because two of your friends brought you here when you asked, even though they had no idea who I was. They just wanted to help you. They’re good people. I trust them to keep you away from anyone who might do to you what he did.” Emile looked to Patton and Janus for confirmation, and they nodded their agreement. Logan, still staring at them, noticed it through his blurred vision. 

“You should tell them what boundaries they shouldn’t cross, when it comes to you, so you can trust them more. I trust that they’ll listen to you.” 

“Okay,” Logan said with a shaky breath, wiping his eyes and nose on the handkerchief he’d shoved into the pocket of his button-up that morning, as if he'd known he was going to break down so badly. As if some part of him had sensed this building up in him and knew that since he was free from his stepfather and his punishments, he might finally cry it out. Because Emile always told him that crying was good, and he trusted Emile _so_ much more than he did that _bastard_. 

Logan laid out for Janus and Patton specific boundaries – different boundaries, since he knew them both at different levels – for them not to cross. He told them what he would be okay with. For example, he finally accepted a hug from Patton. But just this once, he said. And he cried in Patton’s arms. 

He also accepted a hug from Janus (“just this once”), who didn’t seem as experienced at hugging as Patton was – if hugging was something you could be experienced at. But Logan felt safe in his arms, regardless. 

He accepted a hug from Emile, during which he cried again. His stepbrother had always made him feel safe. He had always helped Logan when he had nightmares, in the beginning. Emile was seven years older than him, so Logan looked up to him, growing up. He trusted him and the knowledge he had over the world that he taught Logan. 

“Let’s get you to bed, okay?” Emile said gently, his arms still wrapped tightly around Logan’s tall, thin frame. “I’ll bring your tea.” 

“Will you stay with me? Like old times?” Logan’s voice sounded like a child. Like he was eight years old, and asking Emile if he could crawl into bed with him, because he’d had a nightmare, and Emile had sworn to him time and time again that he’d protect him from all the monsters in his head, would keep him securely wrapped in his arms, but only if Logan felt comfortable – trusted him – enough to accept. 

“Anything you need, Logan. Let’s go tell Remy. And take Patton and Janus to the other guest room – if they don’t mind sharing a bed?” Emile looked to Patton and Janus. 

“Not at all,” Patton said on behalf of himself and Janus. He stood. “Lead the way.” Janus grumbled something under his breath, but he, too, stood. 

“Logan, I can’t carry you. You’re much too big, now.” Logan sighed. He released Emile from his death grip, and Emile did the same. Logan stood up straight, holding out his hand for Emile. Emile stood then took it. His other hand grabbed Logan’s cup of tea, before he led the college-aged boys down the hallway. 

The first door on the left was the bathroom, he told them. The first door on the right was Logan’s room. ( _How often was he going there that he had a room to himself? Or did Emile always have it prepared, just in case?_ ) 

The second door on the right was Remy and Emile’s room. Janus couldn’t help the soft hiss that escaped his lips when he passed it. He swore he heard an angry hiss from the other side. 

The second door on the left was Janus and Patton’s room for the night. It had a king-sized bed, so they should have had plenty of space, despite the fact that they were sharing the bed, Emile assured them. The boys entered the room. Then, Logan and Emile walked back over to Remy and Emile’s room, to tell him that Emile would be sleeping next to Logan tonight, that Remy would have the bed to himself. 

From there, they walked to Logan's room. They stepped inside and crawled into the bed. Logan wrapped his arms around Emile again, and as soon as Emile’s hands started rubbing soothing circles on Logan's back, Logan began crying softly. He cried himself to sleep that night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Summary:**  
>  After the panic attack from last chapter - brought about by Remus making Logan uncomfortable by intruding on his personal space - Logan was put into a bad mental state, only worsened by the exams and piano recital he had coming up soon. Patton and Janus found Logan in a practice room, looking completely mentally destroyed. It took some coaxing to get him out of the room, but eventually they did. Logan requested that the two take him to his stepbrother, Emile's, for a sudden therapy session, for some relief from the bad memories that have returned to his head. Bad memories that Patton and Janus find out detailed physical abuse Logan received from a very young age at the hand of his stepfather for showing any semblance of emotion and even after Logan appeared to be emotionless, for no reason.
> 
> There's a moment of tension between Janus and Remy, because they are both predatorial creatures, but the specifics of this are not elaborated on until much, _much_ later in the story.
> 
> (I'm so grateful I'm managing to get this out today. I hope you appreciate the fact that I'm using my phone to do this.)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the single chapter of text format I mentioned in the tags. I think I've kind of captured their speaking mannerisms, but just in case, here's a font-to-speaker key (in order of appearance:
> 
> Roman   
>  **_ Patton _ **   
>  _ Remus _   
>  _Logan_   
>  **Janus**   
>  **_Virgil_ **
> 
> And I tried to make the few emojis used "old-device friendly," so if you see the description of an emoji in brackets, that's not the character saying it but the place where the emoji would be.
> 
>  **Warnings:** Remus-typical antics, the word "cum" a bunch of times because you can't tell me that's _not_ how Remus would spell "come"

_A few days later..._

[10:42pm] 

Mi cariño may I ask you something? 

[10:43pm]

**_always,_** **_ro_ **

[10:44pm] 

How would you feel about spending part of spring break with me and everyone else? 

[10:45pm]

**_what would we do?_**

[10:45pm] 

I was thinking 2 day trip to Disney world? 

[10:46pm]

**_that’s expensive_** **_tho_ **

**_and who’s everyone else_** **_?_ **

[10:48pm] 

You, me, Logan, our brothers, and that kid who sold me the potions who’s friends with your brother 

[10:49pm]

**_you mean_** **_virgil_ ** **_?_ **

[10:49pm] 

If that’s hot topic’s name then yeah 

[10:50pm]

**_you think he’s hot?_**

[10:50pm] 

I was referring to the edginess of his aesthetic 

You’re the hottest person I know 

Except me of course

[10:52pm]

**_:) :) :)_ **

**_i'd_** **_love to go to_ ** **_disneyworld_ ** **_, but idk if everyone else would agree_ **

[10:53pm] 

And that’s where you’d come in mi amor 

I think you’d be able to convince Logan to come 

And your twin 

But if not I can beg mine to convince yours

[10:55pm]

**_they're_** **_gonna_ ** **_want all the details_ ** **_tho_ **

[10:56pm] 

So here’s what you tell them: 

Cost ~$950 total 

Monday and Tuesday of spring break 

We could probably all carpool in yours and someone else’s car 

Mine or your brother’s maybe 

We could do rooms as follows: 

You and me 

Logan and your brother 

My brother and Virgil 

Am I missing anything?

[11:00pm]

**_idk but_** **_i_ ** **_can ask you if lo or_ ** **_j.j_ ** **_. bring something up_ **

[11:01pm] 

So you agree to this? 

[11:02pm]

**_of course love!_**

**_it'll be fun!_**

**_i'll_** **_just have to tell mom and dad_ ** **_j.j_ ** **_. and I are_ ** **_gonna_ ** **_come home a couple days later_ **

**_and ask them for the money for the trip_**

[11:04pm] 

You don’t have enough? 

[11:05pm]

**_oh_**

**_i_** **_mean_ **

**_i’m_** **_sure_ ** **_i_ ** **_do_ **

**_i_** **_have money in a savings account_ **

**_but they have to give me the password or whatever_**

**_they worry_** **_i'll_ ** **_spend all my money on cookies or something_ ** **_otherwise_ **

[11:08pm] 

If you don’t have enough just let me know ok? 

I can pay whatever for you 

[11:09pm]

**_that's not necessary_** **_ro_ **

**_i'm_** **_sure_ ** **_i'll_ ** **_be able to afford it_ **

[11:11pm] 

My offer still stands 

But anyway 

Since you’ve agreed 

I’m gonna text Remus 

And you can text Logan and your brother

[11:13pm] 

**_i_** **_should be getting to bed_ **

**_but you have fun love!_**

**_i_ ** **_love you! [blue heart emojis]_**

**_i'll_** **_text you as soon as_ ** **_i_ ** **_wake up tomorrow!_ **

[11:15pm] 

I love you too Pat 

Goodnight 

[kissy face emojis]

* * *

[11:16pm] 

Hey

[11:17pm]

_wat_ _?_

[11:17pm] 

You busy? 

[11:18pm]

_always busy mutilating a corpse 4 a sacrifice_

[11:19pm] 

So you’re not 

Good 

I have a question 

[11:21pm] 

You think you could behave well enough for a trip with the others to Disney world? 

It’s our spring break in like a week 

So I thought we should celebrate it in stereotypical college kid fashion

[11:22pm]

_y_ _wuld_ _u_ _wnt_ _me 2 cum w/ u?_

[11:23pm] 

I hate that you spell that word like that 

[11:23pm]

_wat_ _? cum?_

[11:23pm] 

[throwing up emoji]

[11:24pm]

_;)_

[11:24pm] 

You’re fucking disgusting 

Just answer the question 

[11:25pm]

_i_ _have a question_

_since wen have_ _i_ _ever not behaved?_

[11:26pm] 

Are you fucking kidding me? 

What about the time you poured glitter into my shampoo? 

I swear I’m still finding some on my pillow 

Or the time you replaced my body lotion with glue? 

[11:28pm] 

_idk y_ _ur_ _complaining bout_ _tht_ _1_

_ur_ _legs were smooth as a baby’s ass n shit_

[11:30pm] 

That’s not the point! 

The point is I need you to promise me you won’t start shit

You’re gonna be rooming with Virgil (if you can get him to agree to come) and I’m sure he already hates you 

[11:32pm]

_i’d_ _rather room with double d_

[11:32pm] 

He’s already rooming with Logan 

[11:33pm]

_ur_ _no fun_

[11:33pm] 

Sigh 

What if I told you 

It’s to help get them together 

Eventually

Because I know love and I can recognize they were pining hardcore when I saw them together last

[11:34pm]

_[suprised emoji]_

_i'll_ _behave_

[11:35pm] 

Swear it 

[11:36pm]

_i_ _swear on my collection of tentacle porn_ _i'll_ _behave on_ _ur_ _stupid trip_

[11:37pm] 

Gross 

But thanks 

I’ll let you know everything else tomorrow 

[11:38pm]

_[thumbs up emoji]_

* * *

[12:30pm] 

**_hi lo!_ **

**_i_** ** _know you’re probably studying_ **

**_but_** ** _i_** ** _wanted to talk to you about something/ask you something when you’re available_ **

[12:46pm] 

**_make sure you have lunch!_ **

**_and that you’re not overworking yourself! _ **

[9:13pm]

 _Good evening, Patton. My apologies for not responding to your text message sooner. I have been busy studying and practicing_ _piano_ _all day_ _,_ _and_ _I_ _am just now taking a break to eat. If you are unavailable at this time, I understand, but_ _I will_ _be checking my phone for the next half hour while I take my break, in case you become available._

[9:16pm] 

**_hi!_ **

**_i’m_** ** _available!_ **

[9:17pm]

_What is it you wished to speak to me about?_

[9:18pm] 

**_well_** ** _ro_** ** _planned a trip for all of us for the first couple days of spring break and we’d like you to be there_ **

[9:19pm]

_I assume the two of you have already gone over the details of the arrangement so you can relay them back to me._

[9:20pm] 

**_yeah!_ **

**_give me a few minutes to type it all out_ **

[9:23pm] 

**_ro_** ** _says it’ll cost ~$950 total_ **

**_it'll be_** ** _monday_** ** _and_** ** _tuesday_** ** _of spring break_ **

**_we could probably all carpool in_** ** _mine_** ** _and someone else’s_** ** _cars_ **

**_ro's_** ** _or_** ** _j.j.’s_** ** _(if_** ** _i_** ** _can convince_** ** _j.j_** ** _. to come with us)_ **

**_rooms will be me and_** ** _ro_** ** _, you and_** ** _j.j_** ** _.,_** ** _remus_** ** _and_** ** _virgil _ **

[9:27pm]

_Pardon me while I type out a series of follow-up questions._

[9:35pm]

_Does the total cost include souvenirs/meals? Does the total cost include a parking garage for the cars? What kind of hotel will we be staying in? Will the hotel rooms be double bed? (I know those are more expensive.) Will we stay within the groups designated by our room arrangements when we visit the park, itself? Have all other attendees (though you said you haven’t convinced Janus yet) agreed?_

[9:41pm] 

**_oh_ **

**_uh_ **

**_i'm_** ** _not sure_ ** ****

**_i_** ** _mean we’re adults_ **

**_we don’t have to stay with each other in the park_ **

**_and idk about_** ** _virgil_** ** _but_** ** _ro_** ** _told me that_** ** _remus_** ** _has agreed to come_ **

[9:43pm]

_I’d appreciate if you would ask Roman and respond to me as soon as possible. However, I must return to my studying now._

[9:44pm] 

**_ok!_ **

**_i'll_** ** _talk to you later! _ **

[10:57pm] 

**_ro_** ** _said the cost includes everything you can think of_ **

**_he said we’re_** ** _gonna_** ** _stay in the cheapest hotel that’s in the park_ **

**_he said single bed rooms but if you_** ** _wanna_** ** _pay extra you can get you and_** ** _j.j_** ** _. a double bed room_ **

**_he agrees with me that we can all go explore the park on our own_ **

**_we've_** ** _pretty much_** ** _got_** ** _everyone’s_** ** _numbers so we can just arrange a time and place to meet up at_** ** _at_** ** _the end of the day and text anyone if we_** ** _wanna_** ** _hang out sooner_ **

**_ro_** ** _and_** ** _i_** ** _might stick together but you don’t have to stick with_** ** _j.j_** ** _._ **

**_you could come hang with me and_** ** _ro_ **

**_and he hasn’t heard back from_** ** _remus_** ** _about_** ** _virgil_** ** _yet but_** ** _i'll_** ** _let you know as soon as he does_ **

[11:25pm] 

**_goodnight!_ **

**_don't stay up too late!_ **

[2:12am]

_Thank you for responding to my questions in a timely fashion. I hope you’re sleeping well._

[12:30pm] 

**_r_** ** _o_** ** _says he still hasn't heard from_** ** _re_** ** _mus_** ** _but will you pretty please tell me you’re_** ** _gonna_** ** _come so_** ** _i_** ** _can_** ** _tell_** ** _j.j_** ** _.?_ **

[9:18pm]

_Fine. I’ll come_ _o_ _n the trip. I'll text Emile to tell him I’ll be_ _visiting him_ _a couple days later than we originally agreed upon._

[9:20pm] 

**_you don't have to come if you don't want to_ **

[9:22pm]

_You would have continued to ask until I relented. Therefore, I am saving us all valuable studying time by agreeing now._

[9:23pm] 

**_i_** ** _didn't mean to upset you lo_ **

**_it_ ** **_’s really ok if you don't want to come_ **

[9:24pm]

_I am not upset._

[9:24pm] 

**_but you said you didn't_** ** _wanna_** ** _come_ **

[9:25pm]

_I have given my agreement. Therefore, I will come on the trip._

[9:25pm] 

**_o_** ** _k_ **

**_i’_** ** _m_** ** _sorry _ **

[9:27pm]

_You have no reason to apologize, Patton. Everything is alright._ _Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to text Emile about my change of plans._

[9:28pm] 

**_o_** ** _k_ **

* * *

[12:30pm] 

**_hi_** ** _j.j_** ** _.!_ **

**_are you busy?_ **

[12:47pm] 

**_you're probably studying_ **

**_or running the shop_ **

**_or both_ **

**_so never mind_ **

**_just don’t forget to take breaks_ **

**_but text me later ok?_ **

[7:18pm]

**Hey, Patton. I’m having dinner now. What’s up?**

[7:20pm] 

**_hi!_ **

**_so_** ** _ro_** ** _and_** ** _i_** ** _wanted to know if you’d want to come with us and lo and_** ** _remus_** ** _and hopefully_** ** _virgil_** ** _to_** ** _disneyworld_** ** _for the first couple days of spring break_ **

[7:22pm]

**Sounds like a /delightful/ full cast and crew. I would absolutely /love/ to abandon my shop and customers for two days to go parading around with all of you.**

[7:24pm] 

**_i_** ** _thought you might say something like that_ **

**_but pretty please say yes?_ **

**_[pleading eyes emojis]_ **

**_please_** ** _j.j_** ** _.?_ **

**_pleeeeeaaaase_** ** _?_ **

**_[more pleading eyes emojis] _ **

[7:26pm]

**Patton, I cannot leave my shop without warning my customers. I cannot agree to plans if I do not check my schedule first.**

[7:28pm] 

**_then check your schedule_ **

**_you’re at work aren’t you? _ **

[7:29pm]

**I’m home already, actually. My days are an hour shorter during exams season.**

[7:30pm] 

**_ok_ **

**_but if you could tell your customers that_ **

**_why couldn’t you tell them you’re taking a vacation?_ **

[7:32pm]

**If I have customers already coming in on the days you and Roman have planned for the trip, I cannot cancel on them. And it would be unfair to postpone meeting with them because I decided to take a vacation.**

[7:33pm] 

**_but if not then you’ll come?_ **

[7:34pm]

**I don’t know, Patton.**

[7:34pm] 

**_pretty please?_ **

**_mom and dad are already fine if we come home a couple days later_ **

[7:36pm] 

**_oh my gosh_ **

**_you should’ve already had those days open to spend at home_ **

**_why would you lie to me like that?_ **

**_do you really not want to go? _ **

[7:40pm] 

**_is it the amount of people?_ **

**_or is it just that_** ** _disneyworld_** ** _is a public non-magic place?_ **

[7:42pm] 

**_you could probably tell people the scales are painted on if you don’t_** ** _wanna_** ** _hide them_ **

**_or is it that_** ** _virgil_** ** _is probably_** ** _gonna_** ** _be there and you guys are always on and off again?_ **

**_are you off again?? _ **

[7:44pm] 

**_i_** ** _haven’t even told you anything else about the trip_ **

**_ro_** ** _got all the details figured out_ **

**_and_** ** _i'm_** ** _sure you’ve got enough money saved up for it_ **

**_and_** ** _i'm_** ** _sure you’d have fun_ **

**_it's the happiest place on earth_ **

**_even if you like to pretend you’re sarcastic and unfeeling_ **

[7:47pm] 

**_i'll_** ** _go back to my conversation with lo and screenshot the information_** ** _i_** ** _told him and send it to you ok?_ **

**_hold on _ **

[7:49pm] 

**_[2 attachments sent]_ **

[8:00pm] 

**_j.j_** ** _.?_ **

**_are you thinking about it?_ **

[8:12pm] 

**_just let me know soon ok?_ **

**_love you_ **

[7:02am] 

**_is it that you’re_** ** _gonna_** ** _be sharing a room with lo?_ **

**_ro_** ** _wanted to share a room with me and he figured lo would be more comfortable sharing a room with you than with_** ** _remus_** ** _or_** ** _virgil_ **

**_but if you’re not comfortable_** ** _i'm_** ** _sure you and lo can afford your own rooms_ **

**_or if it’s just the single bed part you can spring for a double bed room like_** ** _i_** ** _told lo_ **

[12:18pm]

**Let it go, Patton. I’ve already expressed my disagreement.**

[12:30pm] 

**_but if you don’t come lo will have to room with_** ** _remus_ **

**_and he’d have to shadow_** ** _remus_** ** _around the park because it’s either that or he shadows me and_** ** _ro_** ** _or he goes by himself_ **

**_i_** ** _don’t think lo really even wanted to come_ **

**_i_** ** _don’t know if he would do anything fun if he didn’t have someone with him_ **

**_he might have more fun with you_ **

**_pretty please come? _ **

[12:33pm]

**I’ve already said no, Patton.**

**I hope you weren’t this pushy with Logan. It could, perhaps, be viewed as a violation of his boundaries and/or a disregard of his lack of consent.**

[12:34pm] 

**_oh no!_ **

**_i_** ** _didn’t mean to make him uncomfortable!_ **

**_i'm_** ** _gonna_** ** _go apologize!_ **

**_but_** ** _i'm_** ** _also_** ** _gonna_** ** _tell_** ** _ro_** ** _to tell_** ** _remus_** ** _to convince you because it’s clearly not working from me_ **

[12:36pm]

**You’re going to what?**

**This was your plan? Harass me until I said yes, like I assume you did with Logan?**

[12:37pm] 

**_ro_** ** _and_** ** _i_** ** _really want everyone to come_ **

**_it'll be fun!_ **

**_now pretty please say you’ll come before_** ** _i_** ** _text_** ** _ro_** ** _to text_** ** _remus_** ** _? _ **

[12:39pm]

**No thanks. I think it would be quite /boring/ to see what Remus would try to say to convince me.**

[12:40pm] 

**_is that sarcasm?_ **

[12:40pm] 

**¯\\_(ツ)_/¯**

[12:41pm] 

**_i'm_** ** _gonna_** ** _text_** ** _ro_ **

[12:41pm] 

**Oh /no/. What a /tragedy/.**

* * *

[2:19am] 

_hi j-anus!_

[6:45am]

**Remus. How /lovely/ to hear from you. I’m so /delighted/ that you’re going to try your hand at convincing me to join the rest of you on some /amazing/ excursion.**

[7:16am] 

_wat'll_ _it take 2 convince u to cum? _

[12:12pm]

**Please just text like a normal person.**

[12:46pm] 

_i'm_ _completely normal_

_i_ _have no idea_ _wat_ _u_ _culd_ _b referring 2_

[6:33pm]

**You’re so far from normal that Bigfoot probably thinks /you’re/ a cryptid.**

[7:01pm] 

_i'm_ _honored he thinks so_

[7:02pm]

**Ugh. Will you just get your failed attempt at convincing me over with? I already told Patton I wouldn’t come. You won’t be able to change my mind.**

[7:03pm] 

_not even if_ _i_ _tell u_ _ro_ _alredy_ _made me promise 2 behave myself?_

[7:04pm]

**I don’t care what you do, Remus. I’m not your sitter. Patton has already told me that you’ll be Virgil’s problem, which I’m sure he’ll /love/ to hear from you.**

[7:06pm] 

_convincing him will b_ _ez_

_it'll just take a_ _lil_ _bribery_

_u no he loves his emo stuff_

_i_ _just have 2 by him sum_

_nd_ _he’ll love 2 hear that_ _i'll_ _behave_

_nd_ _that he_ _cn_ _abandon me in_ _th_ _park_

[7:08pm]

**He won’t want to “abandon” you. We all know you’ll resort to malicious compliance. You know how anxious he gets.**

**He’s not going to want to come, and I don’t want to come. Nothing you say can convince me otherwise.**

[7:10pm] 

_not even if_ _i_ _bribe u w/ stuff?_

[7:11pm]

**“Stuff” like what?**

[7:13pm] 

_more of_ _ur_ _nerd books?_

_a really tasty animal_ _th_ _next time u “turn”?_

_tips on how 2 get_ _logan_ _2 agree 2 suck_ _ur_ _dick on this trip?_

[7:16pm]

**You’re disgusting. I do not wish for Logan to “suck my dick,” nor do I particularly care about what kind of animal I am consuming when I am in my snake form. As for the books, I have a list of books that you would never be able to afford or find because they are so rare. So nice try. Please don’t try again. I’m not going.**

[7:17pm] 

_o please_

_we both no u get a brain boner_ _evry_ _time he opens his pretty mouth_

_ooh u no_ _wat_ _? _

[7:18pm]

**Firstly, your statement is a lie. Secondly, /what/?**

[7:19pm] 

_u'll_ _c~_

[7:19pm]

**Remus? What are you going to do?**

**Remus?**

**Remus, answer me.**

**What the hell have you thought up?**

* * *

[2:15am] 

_Good evening, Janus. I am aware of the late hour, so I understand if you are not awake. However, Patton requested that I speak to you and attempt to convince you to come with us on the trip to Disney World that I reluctantly agreed to, as neither Patton nor Remus’s arguments have managed to convince you. When you wake up, please respond so we may begin our debate._

_I believe a battle of wits in which I would emerge the victor would be a suitable approach – and a different approach than you’ve received thus far. We can settle the terms of the debate more formally once you are awake, but if I haven’t made it clear, I intend to win, and my prize is you accompanying me on this dreaded trip._

_I hope to speak to you soon._

[6:45am]

**Good morning, Logan. While I would be delighted to participate in a “battle of wits” - as you so called it - against you, why would you agree to going on a trip you did not wish to go on? Additionally, if knowing I am facing the same situation currently, why would you agree to put me under the same circumstances you had been placed under?**

[6:50am] 

_Good morning, Janus. To answer your first question, I agreed to go on the trip, because I knew Patton would continue to bother me about it otherwise. He is very persistent and stubborn when he needs to be, and I have learned that it is easier to just say yes. Especially when I could be spending the time during which we were fruitlessly debating on something more worthwhile. For example, my studies. It is exam season, after all, and I also have my piano recital coming up._

_To answer your second question, well, it’s an answer in a similar vein to my first. Patton requested it of me, and as much as I dislike the idea of causing you any discomfort or perhaps saying or doing something that might cause me to lose our friendship, I agreed so he would leave me be so I could return to my studies. Therefore, I once again present you with the topic of our debate: why you should (or shouldn’t, in your case) attend the trip with the rest of us. Shall I list the rules, or would you like to do the honor?_

[7:00am]

**You can go ahead. I’ll add or subtract anything afterwards.**

[7:03am] 

_Very well then. Rule 1: as much as this could easily be a discussion of opinions, any opinions must be presented in a factual manner, backed up by evidence. For example, the opinion “I think you’d make the trip more enjoyable for me, if you attended,” should be presented without the “I think” and backed up with evidence such as “I haven’t frequented many amusement parks – especially not Disney World – so I would enjoy having someone to accompany me. Preferably, someone who I get along well with – such as yourself.” A counterpoint/objection can be made afterwards. We can debate each point presented individually. Only after we’ve debated through one point – the victor of said debate earning a point towards total victory and their reward – may we move on to the next one._

_Rule 2: the debate must remain friendly. This means, as much as you can in a texting conversation, to not speak out of turn. This means no use of profane language, and no exclamation points used to express angry shouting._

_Rule 3: Because this is a debate amongst ourselves and not a case presented in a court of law, before a judge/Justice, or before judges of a competition, the victor of each individual debate will be determined when the other person concedes by stating their agreement to the person’s point. For example, by saying, “While I initially disagreed with your point, your argument has convinced me that you are in the right. I concede the point to you.”_

_Rule 4: The debates should take place only when we are both available to text. That way, we must think on our feet. That way, we won’t have all day to compile an argument and responses to possible refutations. While that may be the way it works in a court of law, ultimately, the opposing side often brings up an unexpected argument and one must always think on their toes. It helps to provide a sense of the actual strength of the argument, because even an idiot, if given adequate time, could compile an_ _argument for something completely baseless in nature – such as those who are a part of the flat Earth movement._

_I believe I’ve stated all of my terms. Do you have anything you wish to add or subtract?_

[9:04am]

**My apologies for not responding sooner. I had to head to the shop.**

**There is nothing I feel the need to add or subtract. I agree to your rules.**

**I will be available around 12:15pm, if you wish to begin our debate during my 45-minute lunch break. If not, I should be home by about 6:45pm. I like to be asleep by 10pm, at the latest.**

[9:37pm] 

_Duly noted. However, I spend my days studying, completing homework, and attending classes until about this time each night. Half an hour is not nearly enough time for us to debate, under the current terms, I believe - though we can try it if you wish. If not, we can alter the rules to debating throughout the day. I can assure you that I would be too preoccupied with my studies to formulate arguments and counterarguments, but I would need you to assure me of the same. If we do not change the terms, our arguments would take place upon our waking and before your sleeping._

[9:43pm]

**I think we should change the terms, then. I can assure you that I will not give myself an unfair advantage in our debate. I will not think up arguments and counterarguments over the course of the day. I will refute your points when I am available throughout the day.**

[9:46pm] 

_Shall we start a debate tonight, then, or shall we wait until tomorrow morning?_

[9:48pm]

**We can start a debate tonight, but I believe that you should be the first to present. You’ll likely send your first point by the time I am asleep, so upon waking, I would need to “think on my toes” to come up with a response, and you would likely have to do the same upon receiving mine.**

[9:50pm] 

_Alright, then. Goodnight, Janus. I’ll type up my first point now._

_Point 1: As you know, I am not excited for this trip. However, it would be more enjoyable for me if I had a companion to accompany me through the park, who I wouldn’t feel awkward being around._

[6:46am]

**By the mention of your awkwardness, I assume you don’t wish to shadow Roman and Patton around the park all day, either, even though you are close with them. However, if I also do not wish to go on this trip, why would I wish to accompany you in the park? What’s to say I wouldn’t stay in our hotel room all day?**

[6:52am] 

_Patton and Roman would make sure the both of us stepped foot onto the park’s grounds. Whether or not you returned to our hotel room after they ran off, they might not be able to find out. However, I would feel_ _inclined to follow you, as I would be more comfortable with you, in our hotel room, than in a large park by myself._

[6:54am]

**So, what you’re telling me is that you’d be willing to waste your money to stay in our hotel room all day, just because you’d feel awkward without any sort of companion?**

[6:55am] 

_Precisely._

[6:55am]

**No offense to you, but that can’t possibly be true.**

[6:58am] 

_I can’t imagine that’s true for you, either. Except, I’m already attending. If you were to also attend, you would have a companion. You wouldn’t need to waste the money to sit in your hotel room, bored out of your mind all day, unless you are really so petty as to do so to prove a point. I can’t imagine you are, however._

[7:00am]

**I could be. If I agreed to come, you’d get to see; however, I still don’t agree.**

[7:01am] 

_Very well then. To continue to argue my point, I ask: have you ever been to Disney World?_

[7:02am]

**Yes. A couple times in my youth.**

[7:03am] 

_So it’s been a while. But I have never gone. There may be a childish part of me that is excited to go, but it is overrode by the part of me that gets anxious and awkward. If you were to accompany me, those fears would be diminished, and we would both get to enjoy “The Happiest Place on Earth” without feeling awkward or alone. We would get to display our childish excitement and experience something new – because surely Disney World has changed since the last time you’ve gone – together._

[10:06am]

**I concede.**

[9:38pm] 

_Really?_

[9:39pm]

**Really.**

**So do I argue a point now?**

[9:41pm] 

_Yes. But if you do not wish to because it is close to the time you go to bed for the night, you can type it upon your waking._

[9:41pm]

**I can type it now. Hold on.**

[9:50pm]

**Point 1: I am a businessman. Even though I will have my shop closed up on the days of the trip to Disney World because I was originally going to be at my parents’ house, I would have still been able to connect with clients from my phone or computer. While Disney World /does/ have Wi-Fi in their hotel rooms, neither Patton nor Roman would allow me to make any sort of business endeavors on the trip. I assume they would ask you to do the same. Unfortunately, that is not good business, and it is nearing much too late to announce a full-fledged, two-day vacation in my shop.**

[1:49am] 

_I hope this doesn’t wake you, but I’ve finished my studying for the night, so I figured I would take this time to respond to your point. What I have to say on the matter is this: I would not be bothered if you took business calls or responded to work-related emails in our hotel room. Patton and Roman wouldn’t find out from me, and I can’t imagine it would actually come up in conversation, considering they’ll likely be gushing about how they spent their day._

[6:50am]

**These business calls and emails could only be done in the evenings, however, after we’ve returned to our hotel room after a day spent in the park. Your previous point expressed that we would spend our days together in the park. How, then, would I explain to my clients why I couldn’t take their call when they called me at 11 in the morning or I couldn’t respond to their email sent at 2 in the afternoon until 11 at night?**

[6:55am] 

_If you do not believe there is ample time to announce a vacation in your shop, now, you could change your voicemail message to one that informs callers that you are on a two-day vacation and that you won’t be available between the hours of ____ and ____. If some clients email you before calling, then you’d have to hope that they do call you a few hours later and hear your voicemail message._

[7:00am]

**And if they email or call me about a matter of extreme emergency?**

[7:03am] 

_Then I believe they must “take the L.” (Did I use that correctly?) You have the right to a vacation. And even if they don’t think so, they would think differently were you to have a family emergency, instead. They’d have no right to be upset, so it shouldn’t matter much if you lose their business, if they are._

[7:15am]

**Unfortunately, it is not as simple as losing one customer’s business. This one customer could tell their friends and family that I am not to be trusted with their business because I took an unannounced vacation.**

[7:18am] 

_But this is not something you do often. A customer already loyal to you would know this. If this hypothetical disappointed customer tells people who haven’t had the pleasure of your business this unfair statement, and they are so quick to judge you without seeing it for themselves or consulting other sources who have done business with you, then they aren’t worth your business, either._

[12:43pm]

**You’ve never worked in customer service, have you? Some customers can be pretty hotheaded. They won’t listen to reason. It is likely that those kinds of customers are friends with similar customers. And in the world of business, any customer is valuable. They might not be right, but they’re valuable. This is a capitalistic society, and it runs on money. A business is not successful without money, which comes from customers, which means not taking last-minute vacations because your brother and his boyfriend have no real impulse control and upsetting said customers when you do not deliver the service they expected from you.**

[12:47pm]

**Considering Disney World is an expensive vacation to take, I need any customers I can get to make up for the massive loss of money from the cost of the trip, as well as from the loss of income that results from taking an unpaid vacation. Since I am my own boss, I can’t pay myself for the vacation, and any money I spend on said vacation comes directly out of money made from my business.**

[9:42pm] 

_You are correct that, in this society, money is a powerful thing. You are correct that customers are forces to be reckoned with. Even someone without experience in customer service knows this._

_A larger business has workers who can cover vacationing workers’ shifts. I know this is a resource you do not have. However, what is the likelihood that you will have a sudden influx of customers if you take a two-day vacation? Old, loyal customers might be glad to know you’re giving yourself your first break in who knows how long. Don’t you pride yourself on self-care? If they had any problems with the way you ran things, they wouldn’t stick around. So it’s really only new customers you’d have to worry about. And what’s the probability you have any new customers in any two-day period?_

_I do not have your work records – if you keep records on that sort of thing – but I can estimate that it’s a low chance, considering I’ve been in your shop plenty of times, and I’ve seen you do more paperwork than dealing with actual customers. I may have seen you respond to emails, but I’ve never seen you take a phone call. I assume any emergency situations, especially from new customers, would warrant a phone call. Emails could get lost in spam folders, after all._

_I encourage you to calculate the approximate probability you’ll receive any new customers’ business over the course of any given two days using past data. If no such data exists, then fine. Take an estimate. You can’t possibly disagree that the chance is likely not that high. If such data does exist and you don’t wish to calculate it, well, all you have to do is concede the point to me._

[6:43am]

**I read that last night before I went to bed, and I’m reading it again now, and honestly, calculating that would be impossible, but I’m sure you’re right. I concede.**

[6:44am] 

_Should I present my next point, or are you willing to accept your loss?_

[6:44am]

**You’ve got more points?**

[6:45am] 

_I’m sure I could formulate one more, if you’re determined to continue losing._

[6:50am]

**No. Fine. I’ll go. You can tell Patton.**

[6:50am] 

_I sure he’ll be quite pleased. I know I am._

* * *

[12:00am] 

_good morning emo!!_

[12:05am] 

_i_ _know_ _ur_ _a person who stays up late so answer_ _meeeeee_

[12:06am]

**_What do you want Remus?_**

[12:07am] 

_brother dearest invited us on a trip 2_ _disneyworld_ _so tell me_ _u’ll_ _cum?_

[12:08am]

**_You mean the guy I sold the potions to?_**

[12:08am] 

_yep!_

[12:09am]

**_Who else is going?_**

**_How long are we going?_**

**_How much is it going to cost me?_**

**_Why would I want to go on a trip with you and your brother?_**

**_I don’t like you and I don’t know him very well_**

[12:11am] 

_aw you tickle me emo_

[12:11am]

**_You disgust me_**

[12:12am] 

_tell me_ _u’ll_ _cum?_

[12:12am]

**_Answer all my questions first?_**

[12:12am] 

_o yeah_

_hold on_

_[2 attachments sent]_

[12:15am]

**_Great. So J is coming too?_**

[12:16am] 

_ooh are u 2 having another lover’s spat?_

[12:16am]

**_Shut up._**

**_There’s nothing about any of this that appeals to me._**

**_A crowded amusement park? Sharing a hotel room with you? Sleeping on the floor because your ass is going to steal the fucking bed? Spending all my time worrying about your stupid acts of malicious compliance or following you around so I can stop them before they happen? Being crammed into a car with you, J, and people I don’t know well? Spending $1000? That all sounds fucking horrible._**

[12:18am] 

_wat_ _if_ _i_ _,,, by u_ _sumthin_ _?_

[12:18am]

**_What makes you think bribery would work?_**

[12:19am] 

_bcuz_ _i_ _no u?_

_i_ _no_ _wat_ _u like_

_i_ _culd_ _by it 4 u _

[12:20am]

**_What do I like then? What could you possibly buy me that would make me eager to step entirely out of my comfort zone for two whole days?_**

[12:20am] 

_i_ _culd_ _pay 4_ _ur_ _whole trip_

_i_ _culd_ _by u all_ _th_ _disney_ _shit u want when were there_

_or_ _i_ _culd_ _order u a signed_ _tshirt_ _or sum shit_ _frm_ _1 of_ _ur_ _emo bands_

[12:22am]

**_How badly do_** **_y’all_ ** **_want me there? How much are you willing to spend?_ **

[12:23am] 

_i_ _rlly_ _rlly_ _rlly_ _rlly_ _wnt_ _u there_

_or else ill b a 5_ _th_ _wheel_

_i_ _don’t_ _wanna_ _suffer like_ _tht_

_th_ _others_ _wuld_ _be 2 busy sucking dick 2 by all_ _th_ _candy_ _frm_ _all_ _th_ _stores_ _th_ _1_ _st_ _night_ _nd_ _eat it all then 2 w/ me_

[12:25am]

**_What makes you think I’d want to subject myself to a stomachache and your sugar-high?_**

[12:26am] 

_cum on v! we always have so much fun when we do it!_

_u love_ _lettin_ _loose w/ me_ _nd_ _bein_ _chaotic 4 a bit_

[12:27am]

**_If you buy me this and all the candy like you said, I’ll go._**

**_[1 attachment sent]_**

[12:29am] 

_deal!_

_c u then_ _virgey_ _~!_

[12:30am]

**_Don’t call me that._**

[12:30am] 

_:P :P :P_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The formatting took forever because the underlining didn't carry over, and this information won't even really be relevant for a few more chapters. [sighing emoji]
> 
> Oh, and don't ask me about how the time works in this chapter. I don't remember how I had it all lined up chronologically.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bro, I'm just having dinner with you and ending the night at your house as a friend. It's not gay, bro, I swear. ~~(Unless?)~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** Food, sexual humor, implied sexual content (kinda)

Logan stumbled into Janus’ shop the day after his recital and the last of his exams. He’d taken all of his negative emotions and used those to fuel him, so he could get through all the things he’d needed to do. He’d stayed up late, allowing his memories to keep him awake, but doing work to distract himself from them. He’d consumed lots of coffee, brushed off Patton’s worrying, and not gone to Janus’ shop even once. 

So now, he was in Janus’ shop with the intent of returning the books he’d borrowed weeks ago and picking up the next few. But his fatigue was catching up to him, now that the memories had left Logan’s brain and he had a moment to take a breather. He stumbled down the steps, a black coffee with five shots of espresso in hand (but perhaps not for much longer, if he missed that last step). 

Janus came out from the back of the shop, immediately noticing Logan. “You’re not drunk, are you?” Janus asked, hurrying to Logan’s side as Logan made it safely to the bottom of the steps. He made sure not to touch Logan, not wanting to intrude on his boundaries. 

“Not drunk,” Logan assured Janus, swirling the coffee in his cup so Janus could smell it. 

“No, not unless you can get drunk on caffeine. How many of these have you had today?” Still without touching him. Janus led Logan to the even-further-back room, so he could sit down at the table. 

“Dunno,” Logan responded, with a lethargic shrug of his shoulders. 

“You’re sleepy,” Janus observed. “Even despite the caffeine. Well, I don’t have a bed here, but I can offer you all my blankets.” 

“I’m not tired. I came to say hello. And to grab more books.” 

“Okay. I can go do that for you. You sit here.” 

“I’m not tired,” Logan repeated. “I can get ‘em, myself.” But his eyelids and his body were drooping. Sleep sounded nice. He was so exhausted. His mind was finally quiet. He never stood back up. 

Janus smiled at him fondly. He watched Logan, knowing Logan was watching him through his half-lidded eyes and could tell him to stop at any time, as he knelt down in front of Logan’s backpack. He pulled out the three books he had lent Logan what seemed like years ago. 

With the books in hand, Janus slipped out of the room. Logan made no move to stop him. Instead, Logan rested his head on his arms, which were folded on top of the table. 

Janus grabbed the next three – the _last_ three – books of the series for Logan. And when he slipped back into the even-further-back room, Logan’s eyes were closed and his breathing was even. His coffee sat unattended, and Janus ignored his own urge to drink it. (So maybe he liked the coffee from the shop above his, after all. Sue him.) 

Janus tucked the three books into Logan’s backpack and replaced Virgil’s charm on it, sure that the charm had worn off by now and that Logan hadn’t bothered to ask Virgil to redo it. That would partly explain Logan’s stumbling. (The other part being explained by his fatigue, of course.) 

Janus left the room again, only to return a few minutes later with a couple of blankets. He folded one up, then gently lifted Logan’s arms so he could slip it under, providing the bespectacled boy with a pillow of sorts. He wrapped the other blanket across the back of the chair and over Logan’s back, to keep him warm and comfortable. He debated taking off Logan’s glasses, but him being visually impaired upon awakening in an unfamiliar place for him to wake up in might have been too overwhelming, he thought. He stepped away from Logan. 

“I’ve got work to do,” Janus whispered to a now-sleeping Logan, as if the bespectacled boy would be able to hear him. “But I’ll come back in to check on you, every so often. And if you need anything at all, let me know and I’ll bring it for you.” Janus was met with silence. Of course he was. 

He slipped out of the room again. 

*** 

When Logan awoke, he was disoriented for a moment. He didn’t immediately recognize the room he was in, but he was hugely aware of the fact that he was not laying in a bed - especially not the bed in his dorm room. He was seated at a table, using a blanket as a pillow. If he’d been using a blanket as a blanket, it appeared to have slipped off of his back and onto the floor, while he’d slept. 

He didn’t know how long he’d been asleep. He didn’t know what time it was. It took him a moment before he even realized _where_ he was. But once he did, he didn’t see Janus anywhere. He didn’t know how late Janus usually worked. He _did_ know that Janus must have provided him with the blankets. 

Logan stood. He scooped up the other blanket from where it had fallen on the floor, folded it, and set it on top of the folded blanket on the table (which was wrinkled a bit from the weight of his arms and head, but he didn’t fix it. He noticed his coffee sitting next to the blankets, and he was surprised to find, when he picked it up, that it was still mostly full. He didn’t think Janus had drank any. And Logan certainly didn’t want to, now, since the coffee was cold, it was late, and he was well-rested. He’d probably thrown off his sleeping schedule. He’d probably have to force himself to go to sleep that night. 

“Janus?” Logan called out, to let the other boy know he was awake now. He heard the rapid shuffling of feet, then Janus’ head appeared around the doorframe. 

“Hello, Logan,” Janus said calmly, as if he hadn’t rushed to the room, concerned. “Good to see you’re awake. Can I get you anything?” 

“I’m alright for now, Janus. Thank you. I sense I interrupted your work. You should get back to it.” 

“It’s not a customer. It’s alright to be postponed.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure, Logan. But thank you for your concern.” Janus stepped into the room and took the blankets from the table. “I’ll go put these back in my office. If you’re not going to finish your coffee, will you throw it away this time, please?” Logan nodded, his eyes apologetic. When Janus stepped out of the room, Logan threw his coffee cup in the trash can by the door. Then, he sat back down at the table, waiting for Janus’ imminent return. He didn’t have to wait long. 

When Janus walked back into the room, he took the seat next to Logan at the table. “Sleep well?” Janus asked kindly. Logan nodded again. 

“What time is it?” Logan asked. He didn’t mean to sound rude, but he knew that if it was late, he should head back to his dorm room. He didn’t want to worry Patton, who was probably already so worried about him because of the visit to Emile and then how he, immediately after, threw himself into his studies and preparing for his recital. 

“About seven-thirty. I figure you’ll want to go home to Patton?” 

“He can wait, I think, if I let him know I’m having dinner with you, so he doesn’t have to worry about me.” 

“We’re not having dinner.” 

“But we could be,” Logan said, a burst of confidence shooting through him. 

“Yes, we could be,” Janus mused with a small smile. 

“Would you like to?” 

“I’ve got a few things to finish up here, but afterwards, that would be wonderful.” 

“I could make us something, that way you’d have ample time to work.” 

“That’s not necessary.” 

“Maybe not.” Logan stood. “But I never did, last time I proposed it.” 

“You don’t need to feel obligated to.” 

“I don’t. Let me do this for you. Go ahead and finish your work.” Janus sighed at Logan’s stubbornness. But he, too, stood, giving in to Logan’s wishes. “Anything in particular you’d like, if you’ve got the ingredients here for it?” 

“How about spaghetti and meatballs?” 

“I can certainly try my best.” 

“No pressure.” 

“None at all,” Logan said, though some part of him felt like there was. The two boys walked out of the room together. They both continued walking together into Janus’ office, which housed both Janus’ work desk – at which the snake-boy sat and got back to whatever he was doing with the massive stacks of paper littering the surface of it – and the mini-kitchen – in which Logan opened up the mini-fridge and the few cabinets, looking for the ingredients he needed to try his hand at making the meal Janus had suggested. 

Logan found the noodles and a jar of marinara sauce fairly quickly. He found canned olives and canned mushrooms for extra flavor, if Janus liked. He asked. Janus did _not_ like. Logan wanted to ask why he had them in his cabinets, then, but he did not. 

Logan found different seasonings in the cabinet, pulling out oregano, salt, pepper, garlic powder, and cumin. (Patton had taught him to add cumin to the pasta sauce for an extra kick of flavor. It was the way his parents had always made it, he said. Logan figured Janus would like it, too, then.) 

And finally, as if he’d been avoiding it, Logan looked in the fridge. He’d been in the freezer side of the mini-fridge before, to grab Janus ice cream, but he’d never been in the fridge side, as if worried what he might find there. 

What he did find there, among other things, was milk, an onion (which he grabbed), a tomato (which he also grabbed), and a few different packages of meat (steaks, ground meats, etc.). “Should I be worried about what kind of meats are in here?” Logan asked. It was an insensitive question, but he hadn’t been able to stop it from flying past his lips. He didn’t know if he would have, if he would have seen it as insensitive instead of just simple curiosity. 

Janus flinched, and it was then that it really connected that Logan had said something wrong. Logan opened his mouth to apologize, but Janus spoke before he could, even raising a hand in Logan’s direction to silence him, as if he already knew what the bespectacled boy was thinking. “You should only find _human_ -acceptable meats in there,” Janus told him, a bitter edge in his tone that put several hundred more apologies at the tip of Logan’s tongue. “Remus brings me my animals whole, and I devour them whole. Like a _monster_.” _Where did_ that _come from?_

“You’re not a monster,” Logan said softly, looking through the stack of ground meats in the fridge. He pulled out what he thought was ground beef, when Janus spoke again. 

“ _Really_?” His voice sounded vitriolic. “Because I know I’m not _human_. I’m always a _monster_ , just underneath the surface. I’ve got to eat animals or people about once a month, and, well, I’ve chosen animals for _now_ , but maybe someday, you’ll be the _poor, little human_ who gets caught in my unhinged jaw.” Janus’ forked tongue flicked past his lips, as if the snake part of him had heard him speak and loved the thought. Or maybe Janus had done it of his own accord, wanting to appear villainous, wanting to push Logan away before he could get hurt. 

Because why would Logan, a human with his own troubles, want to stay with Janus? With a monster? With someone who was really a some _thing_ , who could easily lose control over him( _it)_ self? 

“I’m not afraid that you’ll eat me, Janus,” Logan responded. “Remus does very well to ensure that your diet remains human-free. And besides, given that _he’s_ the one who approaches you when you’re hungry, there’s a statistically higher chance that _he_ would be your first human meal.” Janus’ head fell lightly on top of his desk. Logan’s words made him feel no better. These words were spoken without tact. Janus had seen Logan think before he spoke, and yet, he didn’t seem to be doing so, now. 

“Did I say something wrong?” Logan asked, noticing Janus’ position. Now, he sounded concerned, like he was allowing his heart to have some input before he spoke, again. Whatever Janus said was incomprehensible, with his mouth pressed almost directly to his paperwork. “My apologies,” Logan said, figuring he must have, before finally getting started on preparing the meal. 

At some point, Janus lifted his head again. Logan was relieved to hear the sound of a pen scratching on paper, a signal that Janus was alright. And even if Janus wasn’t quite alright, Logan hoped that the meal he was preparing might help mend the damage he’d accidentally done. 

Janus was finished with his paperwork before he knew it, and he stood from his desk. He stood by the mini-fridge, clearing his throat to alert Logan of his presence. “Did you get everything done, Janus?” Logan asked, not tearing his eyes away from where he was slowly easing an angel hair noodle out of the boiling pot of water to test that it was cooked all the way through. 

“I did,” Janus responded, as Logan popped the hot noodle into his mouth like someone with no self-control, panting at the heat. “Shouldn’t you have blown on it, first?” Logan swallowed, the heat of the noodle stinging his throat. 

“It would take too long to blow on it. The rest of the noodles are still cooking, and they can’t afford to be any less cooked than au dente.” 

“You eat your noodles au dente?” 

“You don’t?” 

“They’re a little hard on the fangs.” Logan turned to see Janus opening his mouth. His four canines appeared to be extra sharp than a normal human’s. Logan turned back around after Janus closed his mouth and began speaking again. “They kind of get stuck on there, sometimes, since, as a human, I prefer to chew my food, instead of swallow it whole.” 

“You can still unhinge your jaw in this form?” 

“I can. But I don’t like to. It’s not very appealing, and it always leaves my jaw clicking when I swallow and such, for a couple days afterwards.” 

“I suppose I shouldn’t ask if I could see it, then.” 

“Curiosity killed the cat, Logan.” Janus’ voice had a hint of bitterness back to it. 

“But satisfaction brought it back,” Logan countered, completing the phrase. 

“That doesn't change my mind.” 

“I don’t mean it to. I simply wanted to complete the phrase you left incomplete, as most people do. Many sayings are like that, actually.” 

“Yeah?” Janus asked. He never knew that he would be interested in such a thing, but he thought it might have just been how he could imagine Logan’s eyes alight as he cooked. He probably didn’t get to talk much about his passions. Plus, Janus had told him so much about the magic world, he didn’t mind if Logan wanted to share a few things with him about the non-magic world that he might not know. There was always more to learn, and just like Logan, he was eager to learn it. 

“Yeah. Do you have a towel or a pair of oven mitts?” Janus tossed a dish towel to Logan. It arced to far too Logan's left, however, and Logan hadn’t been quick enough to intercept it. It hit the floor. Logan sighed. “That’s alright. It’s not touching the food, anyway.” Janus shrugged. He couldn’t really be picky. He ate animals _whole_. And he had no idea where Remus even _got_ any of those animals. He didn’t think he wanted to know. After all, Remus could easily be kidnapping them from the zoo he worked at, and Janus wouldn’t want to get caught up in that. 

Logan pulled the meatballs out of the oven. Then, he turned off the pot of spaghetti sauce lightly boiling on the stove. He mixed the sauce and the meatballs in with the pasta (which he had drained during his and Janus’ conversation) and let the heat of both of them cook the pasta a little more, so that the noodles weren’t quite so au dente. 

“What are other phrases?” Janus asked, noticing that Logan had become completely immersed in his cooking, again. 

“My personal favorite,” Logan said, between blows on the noodle and chunk of meatball he had picked up from the pot with a fork, “is ‘the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb,’ which is the original saying for ‘blood is thicker than water,’ which is a very pro-family reduction.” 

“And the original means that the family you find with your friends is stronger than the family you’re born with?” 

“Pretty much. Knowing my history, you can probably guess why I like that one.” 

“Do you not consider Emile your family?” 

“He’s my friend and my step-brother. But I consider his friendship bond more important, simply because of that saying.” Janus nodded, though he didn’t understand at all. He and Patton had always had each other and their parents. They’d had a loving home. They’d had friends who cared, family friends who cared. The separate labels of friend and family only really meant that they either shared genetics or did not. There were no differing values on them, to the boys. Patton and Janus were family. Family who had the strongest bond because of their twinhood. 

“You don’t have to pretend to understand me,” Logan told Janus, as if entirely sure that Janus and Patton had had a good childhood. After all, how could Patton be so loving and trusting if he’d grown up in even a _remotely_ bad home environment? Logan wasn’t very trusting, not when it came to letting into his personal circle. Patton (and later, by association, Roman) and Janus had both eased their way in there somehow, and somehow, Logan didn’t mind it so much, but still. 

“Of course. My apologies.” Janus sounded very reminiscent of Logan when he said it, which did not fail to escape Logan’s notice. He didn’t remark on it. In fact, he wondered if that was really how he sounded when he said it. He thought it sounded a bit posh. _Did he always sound posh?_ Roman would tell him, if he asked, he was sure. 

But right now, he was at Janus’ shop. The spaghetti was ready. He needed to serve it... 

_When had Janus stepped even further into the kitchen? When had Janus slipped into and then out of his line of sight, in order to serve up the food? Hadn’t Logan been standing right in front of the pot, testing a noodle?_ He didn’t remember announcing that dinner was ready. 

And yet, Janus was now stood in front of him, holding a plate like a peace offering, as if Logan hadn’t had the same idea. “Bon appétit,” Janus said with a small smile, as if he’d been the one to make the meal. 

“Bon appétit,” Logan repeated softly, taking the offered plate. “Will we be eating here or in the back room?” 

“The back room, please. I wouldn’t prefer to get pasta sauce on my paperwork.” 

“Maybe you should invest in a filing cabinet.” The two boys began walking out of the office. 

“Why get a filing cabinet and destroy my system of organization?” Logan thought back to the piles of papers scattered on the surface of Janus’ work desk. They’d stepped into the even-further-back room and taken their seats next to each other at the table, before Logan spoke again. 

“ _That’s_ organized to you?” 

“There’s a method to my madness. Surely you know that saying?” _Were things tense between them, now?_ Wasn’t the pasta supposed to- “Mm!” Janus suddenly exclaimed, mouth full of pasta. He swallowed. “This is perfect. Just like my mom makes it.” 

“I would hope so. Patton told me the secret.” 

“He did what?” Janus’ voice was loud. Logan flinched, closing his eyes tightly. He took a deep, calming breath before he opened his eyes and spoke.

“We both know he can’t cook. If he’d wanted your mother's pasta, he would have either had to call her up all the time or give me the family recipe.” Janus pouted like a child, grumbling under his breath about how family secrets were sacred, but also how _Patton really couldn’t keep a secret, could he?_ “I was hoping you might enjoy it enough to forgive me for my microaggressions against you.” 

“It’s fine, Logan,” Janus told him, sounding a hint exasperated, for some reason. “There’s nothing to be forgiven. You didn’t know any better.” 

“That doesn’t make it right. I let my curiosity get the better of me and spoke without thinking. I upset you.” 

“I’ve been hurt a lot worse, curse included.” Logan opened his mouth. “Don’t apologize,” Janus told him, before he could get another word out. Logan’s mouth closed. Janus nodded, his lips pressed in a tight line. Then he sighed. He took another bite of pasta, as if the sigh had cleared away any tension from the situation. 

The two boys were friends. They were eating dinner together. They should be having a nice time. 

But the room was silent, aside from the sounds of silverware scraping bowls and mouths chewing pasta. Some of the tension still hung in the air, settling over their skin like dust settling atop a porcelain cookie jar that hadn’t moved since it was set in its place in the kitchen. 

And then, it was all shattered by the sound of something blaring a loud pop song. Logan’s phone, blaring _Patton’s_ pop song, _Patton’s_ ringtone. Logan swallowed his bite of pasta, before pulling out his phone. He accepted the call, pressing the phone to his ear. 

“Hello, Patton,” Logan said calmly, and not at _all_ like a man caught with his hands in a cookie jar, in a cookie factory, and his pants are down, and they’re on fire... 

“Hey, Lo,” Patton replied. “You never came home this afternoon. I know you wouldn't have wanted me to worry, then, but since it’s pretty late, now, I’m worrying.” 

“I’m alright, Patton, I promise. I’m with Janus. Would you like to say hello?” Janus’ eyes widened. 

“Can I?” Patton asked eagerly. Janus could clearly hear this, but he’d heard nothing of what Patton had told Logan before. He sighed. 

“I’ll put you on speakerphone.” And Logan did. “Say hello to Janus, Patton.” 

“Hi, J.J.!” Patton’s voice was chipper. 

“Hello, Patton,” Janus responded coolly. 

“What are you and Lo doing?” 

“We’re having dinner. Didn’t he tell you?” 

“Must have slipped his mind. That’s alright. What did he make you?” 

“Who says _I_ didn’t do the cooking?” Patton let out a loud laugh. Janus pouted. “I _know_ you, J.J. _And_ I know Logan. You would have been working, so he would’ve wanted to make you dinner, to assure you were taking care of yourself. In opposite roles, you both would have done the same thing. You’re a lot alike, did you know that?” 

“We did,” Logan said, on behalf of both of himself and Janus. Janus’ mouth had been opened to say the same thing, but he closed it when Logan spoke. 

“Just let me know when you want me to come pick you up from the shop, then, okay?” 

“I can walk.” 

“It’s getting dark out, Lo. That’s not safe.” 

“I'll be alright. I always carry pepper spray on my person.” 

“It would make me feel better to come pick you up.” 

“It would make me feel better, as well,” Janus told Logan, though Logan might not have heard him, considering he’d spoken at the same time. 

“Is Roman not with you?” Logan asked Patton. “Surely the two of you decided to celebrate the end of midterm season? Especially once you realized I wasn’t home?” 

“What are you implying?” Janus could imagine Patton’s confused pout, his eyebrows furrowed. 

“Nothing in particular. But I know that couples prefer to have time to do certain activities without the intrusion of a quote-unquote ‘third wheel.’” 

“You’re not a third wheel,” Patton was quick to insist. 

“You’d be even less of a third wheel if you got a date,” a different voice mumbled, from Patton’s end of the line. 

“Was that Roman?” Logan asked. The boy in question swore. 

“Language!” Patton reprimanded the boy. It was _definitely_ Roman. 

“ _Hi_ , Logan,” Roman said awkwardly, probably pairing it with an awkward wave that Logan couldn’t see. “You didn’t hear what I said, did you...?” 

“I did not. I assume you don’t wish to repeat it. But just know that nothing you could say could hurt me.” 

“Because you're a robot with no feelings?” 

“Roman!” Patton scolded again. Roman grumbled. A quiet argument began on Patton’s end of the call. 

“I’m sorry, Logan,” Roman said, sounding regretful and genuine. “You know I didn’t mean it. I really didn’t." 

“I told you, nothing you could say could hurt me. Besides, I know you often speak without thinking.” 

“Yeah.” An awkward silence descended over the rooms. 

“I can take him home to yours if you’d like, Patton,” Janus spoke up, to break the silence and the tension. “Just let me know when you’d like him home by.” 

“Ooh, Logan and Janus are on a da-ate,” Roman teased. The boys’ cheeks flushed, and they ardently avoided each other’s gazes. 

Of course, they _weren’t_ on a date. If they’d been on a date, they would have _at least_ dressed up for the occasion. 

“Do you drive, Janus?” Patton asked, after Roman let out a soft groan that sounded like Patton might have elbowed him in the stomach for his teasing. 

“I’ve got to get home somehow. And I’m not blind,” Janus responded. “How did you not know this?” 

“I mean, I knew you could _drive_. I just didn’t know you had a _car_.” 

“I’ve made enough here at the shop that I was able to purchase one secondhand.” 

“Okay, then I guess have him home by...” Patton looked at the time on his cell phone. Then, he had to think about it for a moment. 

Logan was sure this exchange only affirmed, in Roman’s mind, that this _was_ a date. After all, Patton was acting fatherly, like he did sometimes, about establishing a curfew for Janus to bring Logan home by. Janus, who Logan was having dinner with, even if it wasn’t at a fancy restaurant and Janus – with his bowler hat – and Logan – with his necktie (that he’d worn for confidence, as if he hadn’t already been confident enough that he’d pass the last of his exams with flying colors) – were barely dressed up for it. 

“Well, we don’t have class tomorrow, so...” Patton continued, thinking aloud. Then, whispering began on Patton’s end of the call. It started louder, then got softer, as if Patton had set his phone aside, specifically so Logan and Janus couldn’t catch any snatches of his and Roman’s discussion. 

“What do you think they’re planning?” Logan whispered to Janus, not bothering to make sure Patton and Roman couldn’t hear. In fact, he may have actually _intended_ for them to hear it. 

“Nothing good, I’m sure,” Janus responded, his voice a bit louder than a whisper, as if knowing of Logan’s intentions. Roman let out a few offended Princey noises™, which were loud enough for Logan and Janus to hear. It cut off the romantically-involved couple’s discussion. 

“It’s okay if you don’t come home at _all_ , Logan,” Roman teased. Logan rolled his eyes. Roman groaned, so Patton must have elbowed him again. “After all, an empty dorm room...” 

“Roman!” Patton scolded, his cheeks bright pink. He buried his head in Roman’s shoulder. 

“Alright, alright. He knows I’m just teasing.” 

“Perhaps I did _not_ know such a thing,” Logan responded. “After all, this is not the first time you’ve made a sexual implication that I’ve bore witness to. If you wish to have time on your own with Patton tonight, to celebrate with copulation, I’m sure Janus wouldn’t mind housing me for the evening.” Roman sputtered, his own cheeks bright pink now. Janus was smirking at Roman and Patton’s flustered states (he could imagine them, and he very much enjoyed the image), his eyes watching Logan fondly. 

“If you and Roman are going to tease each other tonight, perhaps you _should_ stay with Janus, so we can avoid any conflict,” Patton said, his voice sounding more like a squeak than that of someone more composed, but also muffled from his head’s position in Roman’s shoulder. 

“If the two of you are that desperately in need of copulating, just tell me, and I’ll ask Janus if I can spend the night at his place.” 

“And what would you do there?” Roman asked, teasing, though his voice, too, was like a squeak. 

“We might spend the night reading or teaching each other things.” 

“What kind of things?” Roman’s voice was sing-song, now having lost the squeak. 

“You’re acting like Remus,” Janus finally said, to spare _all_ of them any further embarrassment. 

“I am not!” 

“You don’t think he hasn’t teased me about my blossoming friendship with Logan, as well?” 

“Fine.” Roman’s pout was audible. “Don’t come home, Logan. I’m mad at you.” He sounded petulant. 

“You can come home if you want to, Logan,” Patton told him gently. He’d since removed his head from Roman’s shoulder. 

“Janus, would you mind my company at your dwelling, tonight?” Logan asked the snake-boy. 

“I’d never mind your company. But taking you home would be a first for any of my friends,” Janus admitted. 

“If you do not feel comfortable with that level of intimacy with me, I can return to my own dorm room, regardless of Roman’s protests. It’s ultimately not _his_ call, after all.” 

“No, I- It's alright.” 

“I do not wish for you to be uncomfortable.” 

“I live alone, in an apartment a couple blocks away from here. None of my other friends have had any need to drop by. Patton doesn’t know the address. There are no dark secrets hiding there, but it’s still not a place whose location I just advertise.” 

“Understandably. Remus has difficulties with personal space.” Janus sighed. He knew what they were both remembering from that remark. 

“I could sleep on the couch and you could take my bed, if you wish to spend the night. I could provide you with spare toiletries and a change of clothes.” 

“You wouldn’t be uncomfortable on the couch?” 

“I’ve slept on this very table before, Logan. I’ll be alright. If you’d like to spend the night at my apartment, I’d be glad to have you.” Logan nodded. He thought it over, for a moment. 

“If you’re really not averse to it, that is fine by me.” Patton clapped a couple times, on the other end of the line. He was wearing a bright smile. 

“It’s all settled, then,” he said happily. “I’ll see you at some point tomorrow, then, Lo. Enjoy your night.” 

“Enjoy your copulation,” Logan retorted, teasing the couple and smirking as he did. Janus wore a matching smirk. Logan cut off Roman’s offended Princey noises™ when he hung up the phone. Then, Janus burst into laughter. 

“I didn’t know you made those kinds of jokes, Logan,” Janus laughed. “Or any jokes at all.” 

“Roman deserved it, for teasing me in such a manner, as well.” 

“I agree. Shall we finish dinner, so we can head to my apartment?” Logan nodded. The room fell into a comfortable, not-tense-at-all silence as Janus and Logan finished their meals. Once they finished, they washed their dishes in the bathroom (there was no sink in the mini-kitchen. The dish towel had been there solely for pulling hot pans out of the oven) and returned them to their proper places in the kitchen. Logan packed up the large amount of leftovers, and he carried them out of the shop, as he followed behind Janus, who led the way to his car. 

They climbed into the small, black car and drove off. Destination: Janus’ apartment. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought of the chapter summary as I was proofreading this. I've been hanging out over Discord with a friend of mine who makes those kinds of jokes all the time, so I think they're rubbing off on me a little.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Falling asleep next to each other, under the stars, isn't gay if I say "no homo," bro. ~~(Except, its pretty gay)~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: potential secondhand awkwardness (like secondhand embarrassment, except instead of feeling embarrassment, you'll feel awkward), sexual talk, implied/referenced homophobia, blood

Logan didn’t know what exactly he was expecting Janus’ apartment to look like, once he stepped foot in it, but it certainly wasn’t this. He’d expected some kind of personal touch from Janus, some kind of sign that the apartment was lived in. Even if Janus didn’t plaster photos along his walls like Patton did, he could have at least put a painting up on a wall or a bookshelf next to the gray velvet armchair. 

The walls, themselves, were white. Bare. The furniture was gray, except for the black, flat screen TV. Even the coffee table upon which the TV sat was gray. The table looked like it might have just been a large block of cement. 

The room was immaculate. It didn’t have any overwhelming scent, except maybe a hint of baking soda, as if Janus had sprinkled some on the gray carpet before he’d vacuumed it – whenever he’d vacuumed it last. 

Logan didn’t realize he was staring at the room, standing in front of the door that Janus must have finally walked up behind him and closed, until Janus spoke. “Can I interest you in a glass of water?” he asked. “Or... no, probably not food, since we just ate.” 

Logan’s gaze shifted to Janus, who had removed his hat and was now running his hand through his curly blond locks as if it was a nervous tic. He also bit on his lip. He was waiting for Logan to answer. 

“That would be nice,” Logan finally responded. Janus visibly relaxed, his hand leaving his hair and his posture slouching some. He walked quickly out of the room, muttering under his breath. 

Logan took a seat on the gray velvet couch. His eyes continued to look around the room, as if some part of him thought that there might be magic hiding the personal touch Janus had left in the room and that he might be able to detect it. 

Janus returned to the living room with a glass of ice water for Logan. “I didn’t know if you wanted ice,” Janus told Logan, sitting down in the gray velvet armchair. He watched as Logan took a sip. 

“This is just fine, thank you,” Logan assured Janus, after he’d taken the sip. The room fell into an awkward silence. 

“I know it’s not much-” Janus finally spoke up. Logan’s eyes snapped to him. “I could... still give you a tour of the rest of the place? You’ll need to know where you’re sleeping and where the restroom is, and how the shower works, if you want to take one, and...” Logan had the feeling that Janus might keep rambling. He was nervous, understandably. Logan was the first friend he’d invited over. He must have been nervous about making a good impression so Logan might want to come back someday. _That’s how those things went, right?_

_Oh. Janus must have still been speaking._ _His lips were still moving._ Logan really needed to stop losing himself to his thoughts. He’d just left the worst of them. He shouldn’t risk going back down that road. 

“That would be nice, thank you,” Logan said. He had the feeling that he was starting to sound like a broken record. He stood, before he could dwell too much on it. Janus also stood. 

“You can just set your water on the TV table, if you don’t want to carry it with you.” Logan kept the glass in hand. He followed Janus into the kitchen, which didn’t need explaining. It looked as bland as the living room. White walls. Black and white furniture. “Everything in here should be pretty self-explanatory.” No dishes in the sink or on the sparkling white marble countertops. 

They left the kitchen, and Janus led Logan into an extremely small hallway. He flicked on a light by the wall. A fake chandelier from overhead illuminated the hallway in white light, making the white walls appear even brighter. Logan squinted against the glare. 

But the chandelier might have been a personal touch. Logan doubted you could find those in any other apartment building. Which begged the question: _did Janus know how to install a fake chandelier?_

Janus opened the door on the left. Logan peeked inside to find a bathroom. A sink and a toilet pressed against the left white wall. A large shower stall alcoved behind a white wall on the right. White marble countertop on the sink, the toiletries standing up straight against the wall. A gleaming, rectangular mirror above the sink, the frame spiral and gold: the first hint of actual color in Janus’ home. 

Janus closed this door then opened the one on the right. The single bedroom. A large bay window on the wall opposite the door, with gray velvet cushioning, two plain black decorative pillows, and one sequined gold decorative pillow. 

Logan stepped inside the room, since it was to be his for the night. He wanted to see more of it. 

The bed was large enough for two people, pressed against a single wall, as if actually intended to be shared by a couple. The closet on the wall opposite the window had mirrors for doors. 

Logan didn’t open the closet, but Janus did. It was filled with black, gray, white, and yellow articles of clothing, as if Janus adhered by that color aesthetic only. Though Logan swore he saw a small flash of bright green up in the front, among articles of yellow - as if the brightness of the yellow could have concealed the brightness of the green - like something that might have belonged in literally anyone else’s closet. 

The clothes were organized by kind. Shirts in the front, then shorts, jeans, and sweatpants. Sweaters, sweatshirts, and a large black and grey, plaid-patterned hoodie. Shoes were laid out in pairs on the floor. Janus added his black sneakers into the line, into an open spot between a pair of black, high-heeled boots and black slippers with yellow snakes on them. 

Janus pulled out two pairs of black sweatpants and two T-shirts – one yellow (which allowed Logan to see even clearer the article of bright green clothing that had found its way into Janus’ closet. It looked like a crop top. Janus didn’t look like the type to wear crop tops, but appearances could be deceiving) and one gray. Janus handed Logan the gray T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. 

“The laundry basket is in the right side of the closet. So are boxers and socks, if you find yourself needing either of those. I’ll go change in the bathroom,” Janus rambled. “Unless you need to use the bathroom or you’d like to take a shower, in which case, I can change in here.” 

“I can take a shower in the morning,” Logan answered. “If you’d like to take one now, I can find myself a suitable activity. The bookshelf along the right wall has caught my attention. So has your bay window.” 

“You’re free to read any of the books you’d like, though you won’t find any magical ones there. I try to make this place look like a _normal_ person is living here. Not someone who can do magic and also happens to turn into a snake about once a month.” 

“A normal person might give more than just their _bedroom_ a personal touch,” Logan found himself saying. _His brain-to-mouth filter had really abandoned him today, hadn’t it?_ “Unless you’re leading pizza delivery guys or repairmen into your bedroom only?” Janus flushed at the implication. 

“Of course I’m not,” he stuttered, sliding the closet door closed and trying not to look at Logan’s reflection in the mirror and the smirk Logan had on his pretty pink lips. “I’m going to change.” 

“And shower?” 

“And shower. You'll know when I’m done.” Janus stepped out of the room. He closed the bedroom door behind him. He had to take a moment outside of the door to regain his composure. He knew Logan could make sexual jokes, but to be on the receiving end of one was much more embarrassing than bearing witness to someone else’s embarrassment. 

Logan, meanwhile, began to browse the collection of books on Janus’ shelf. All classics. A collection of Shakespeare plays (which Logan was sure Roman would have loved, since he was a theatre enthusiast), a couple of Jane Austen books, _To Kill A Mockingbird_ , _1984_ , and what looked like every book ever written by Logan’s favorite novelist, Agatha Christie. 

Logan scanned the titles until he found his favorite novel, _The Murder of Roger_ _Ackroyd_ , and plucked it off the shelf. He wanted to read the book right away, but he knew he should change into the pajamas Janus had provided him with, first. He locked the door briefly, while he did, and unlocked it again immediately after. He tossed his dirty clothes into Janus’ laundry basket, and added his shoes to the line of Janus’ own. 

He heard the shower water start, when he returned to the book and the bay window. He curled his legs under him and became immediately immersed in the world created by the words on the page. 

*** 

After his shower, Janus stepped back into his bedroom, his dirty clothes rumpled in his hands. The room was silent. Logan’s head was bent over the book in his lap, his finger trailing down the pages of the book as he read. Janus didn’t want to disturb him. 

He silently willed the heavy closet door not to rumble as he slid it open or to slam hard once he’d deposited his dirty clothes in the laundry basket and closed the closet door. From there, he needed to find himself something to do. Something quiet, so he didn’t disturb Logan. Because Logan was content reading his book, and it was a host’s job to keep their guest content. 

Janus walked over to the bookshelf and the books he’d read many times. He could see the empty spot among his Agatha Christie novels collection, but had his life depended on it, he never could have guessed which one was missing. 

He had half a mind to read an Agatha Christie novel, himself, as if to convey to Logan that he was interested in the books and that they weren’t just there for decoration. He didn’t know why he had the thought. He brushed it off. He wasn’t very much in the mood for a mystery. Though, he found that he wasn’t very much in the mood for reading. 

His gaze kept slipping back to Logan, even though Logan was doing nothing extraordinary, nothing to call attention to himself. He was just reading. Most people read. He wasn’t sprawling around, trying to find a comfortable position, as he read, like Janus had seen Remus do, the couple of times he’d _actually_ seen Remus pick up a book. 

“Janus, are you going to just keep watching me?” Logan asked. Janus flushed, realizing he must have been outright staring at Logan, now. That could explain why he’d noticed that Logan hadn’t flipped the page for a few minutes. Surely Logan didn’t read that slow. He was very intelligent. 

“My apologies,” Janus stammered. “I hadn’t meant to stare.” And yet, Janus was still staring. He watched as Logan pulled his gaze from the book to meet Janus’ heterochromatic eyes. Logan flipped the book upside down and set it on the cushion of the bay window, in lieu of using a bookmark that he didn’t have. 

“I hadn’t heard you finish your shower,” Logan admitted. “Otherwise, I would have given you my attention much sooner.” 

“It’s not your job to grant me your attention. As your host, it is _my_ job to pay attention to you. Specifically, your needs. And on that note, _is_ there anything you need right now? A refill on your water glass, perhaps?” 

“I’m alright, Janus. Thank you. I set the glass down and haven’t touched it since I started reading.” 

“Are you thirsty?” Janus spotted the glass on the brown, oak-wood bedside table on the opposite side of the bed from where the bay window was. “I could grab it for you.” He turned away from Logan, as if to head in that direction. 

“I’m alright, Janus. Really. You don’t need to tend to my every need. You allowing me to spend the night in your bed is plenty hospitable.” 

“And you’re entertained?” 

“I’m enjoying the book, yes. But I’ve read it multiple times. If you wished to do something else in my company, I would not be opposed to setting the book aside and obliging.” 

“Shouldn’t I be asking _you_ what you’d like to do? I could leave the room, so you can focus on your book again.” 

“Nonsense, Janus. That’s not necessary. I enjoy your company. We can find an activity to do together. Do you have anything of the sort here? I know you said you don’t often have company.” 

“I don’t have any board games or a deck of cards or anything you might be used to.” 

“Not even tarot cards?” 

“Would you want a tarot reading? Because I have connections. I could get you one.” 

“No, that’s alright. I was simply curious. After all, tarot cards, despite their origin as playing cards, have come to be associated with psychic abilities, which would lend itself to magical practitioners.” 

“The most entertaining things I have here are probably my books. Unless you wanted to raid my fridge and cupboards and make food. I spend most of my time in the shop, after all. I’m plenty entertained there.” 

“So when you get home, usually, you simply go to bed?” 

“I usually have a meal, first, but then, yes.” 

“Then perhaps we should just go to bed. We wouldn’t want to mess with your circadian rhythm.” 

“And what about yours?” 

“I’m sure my body would enjoy the extra hours of sleep.” 

“You and I both know that’s not how that works. I’m sure we can think of something to do here. We could call Patton and Roman. Roman is creative. I’m sure he might be able to come up with something.” 

“But perhaps we shouldn’t disturb them. They may be copulating, after all, even if that is none of our business to know.” 

“I don't understand how you can be so blunt about it. Patton _is_ your friend. And _my_ twin.” 

“Copulation is just as natural as eating or drinking. It may not be necessary for an individual’s survival, but when the straights do it, it keeps the human line going, and when LGBT people do it, there are health benefits.” 

“Wouldn’t there be health benefits for the straights, as well?” 

“Yes. But not all of them deserve them.” 

“That’s a little harsh.” 

“ _Homophobes_ can be harsh.” 

“Something you’ve experienced firsthand?” Logan’s expression hardened. 

“Yes,” Logan said, his tone making it clear that he wouldn’t elaborate. 

“My apologies for bringing up a sensitive topic.” Logan’s expression softened a degree. 

“You didn’t know. I do not blame you, Janus. You were curious. As I’ve mentioned once before, there is nothing wrong with being curious.” 

“I still hadn’t meant to upset you.” 

“I am not upset.” Logan met Janus’ eyes. “Does this look like the face of someone who is upset?” It did not. It only looked like he was telling the truth, as if it were any fact that could be read in an academic textbook. Janus nodded his acknowledgement of Logan’s feelings, instead of as an affirmative answer to his question. “I’m not upset,” Logan repeated, perhaps having misinterpreted Janus’ nod. 

“I understand,” Janus replied. “But allow me to attempt to make it up to you, anyway.” Logan shrugged. They were in Janus’ apartment, so it was really up to _Janus_ what was allowed to happen there. The room fell into silence, then, as Janus thought over what he could possibly do to make it up to Logan – even if Logan was probably silently insisting that it wasn’t necessary. Then, Janus had an idea. 

“You’ll probably want to put the book back,” Janus said, as he turned away from Logan. He didn’t see if Logan did as he asked, instead walking out of the bedroom. He walked to a door directly at the end of the small hallway that he hadn’t shown Logan (and Logan hadn’t asked about). Logan wouldn’t have been able to get inside, but Janus figured it better – just in case of any danger – that Logan didn’t know about it. 

Before turning the knob, Janus looked back to see if Logan had followed him. He hadn’t, perhaps expecting Janus to return, expecting that Janus would have told him if he wished for Logan to follow. 

The door clicked shut behind Janus and a light automatically turned on. Cardboard boxes were stacked against the walls, taller than Janus, tilted on their sides to appear more like cubbies. They were filled with books, loose sheets of paper, scrolls, wooden boxes, metal boxes, and much more that couldn’t be seen. They formed a maze that Janus weaved through expertly, walking to a large metal safe against the back wall. He knelt down before it. 

Janus pulled at the skin of his lip with his teeth, pulling back a long strip of skin and drawing blood. It stung, but that wasn’t what was important to him. He pressed his pointer finger to the new wound, hard, to stop the blood from flowing and to collect a droplet on his finger. After a minute, he pulled his finger away. 

Where the safe should have had a lock was a small, black square that, if Janus squinted, he could see his reflection in. He pressed his bloodied finger to the square. Gears clicked out of place and the top of the safe lifted, as if pulled by an invisible hand, exposing a miniature cabinet of sorts. 

Janus pulled open the very bottom drawer. No items appeared to be inside it, but he knew better. He reached his hand in. He was unsurprised when his hand finally hit what he was looking for, after his elbow had already slipped inside. 

Janus pulled out the item: a thin, rectangular box. With his free hand, Janus pushed the drawer closed then pushed the cabinet back into the safe, hearing the gears click back into place. 

With that, Janus left the maze of boxes and the room and returned to his bedroom, where Logan was sat, on the bed, staring at the door, as if he’d been awaiting Janus’ return this whole time. “What is that?” Logan asked, as soon as Janus stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. Janus didn’t answer. 

Instead, Janus walked over to the bay window and closed the shutters. Next, Janus flicked off the light. “I’m still here,” Janus assured Logan softly. He was careful not to bump into anything, as he made his way to the bed. He looked for the dark shadow that he knew was Logan and took a seat next to him. 

“What’s inside the box?” Logan asked again, feeling as the bed shifted next to him, as Janus took a seat. Janus opened it, but Logan couldn’t see in the dark. Janus took the item out of the box and set the box aside. “Should I be worried?” 

“Do you trust me?” Janus asked in response. 

“I do.” Logan knew Janus wouldn’t be able to see him nod. 

“Lay back on the bed.” Logan did, and Janus did the same. Janus raised his arm with the item in hand. The room was pitch black. But it wasn’t silent. Janus was mumbling. Logan couldn’t make out what he was saying, but he was sure that Janus was casting a spell. He _knew_ that Janus could cast spells. But what Logan _didn’t_ know was what that had to do with the item in Janus’ hand. 

Logan wanted to turn towards Janus, to see if there was any possibility of him seeing what Janus was doing, in the pitch-black room, but he kept his gaze on the ceiling. He was glad he did, because suddenly, it was illuminated. The room was lit up by white sparkles. 

Logan squinted at them, as if that would help him to see them better, to solve the puzzle of what they had to do with the item in Janus’ hand. And then, softly, Logan gasped, as he realized what he was looking at. 

“Is that the Big Dipper?” Logan asked, hand shooting up and finger pointing at the constellation in question. His voice was soft, impressed. 

“Yes,” Janus responded, his voice equally as soft. He turned to Logan to see the awestruck look in his eyes. It was certainly a sight to behold, just like the night sky Janus had conjured above their heads. 

“How did you do this?” 

“Magic, of course.” 

“But then... what was in the box?” 

“Magic wand.” 

“Your people still use magic wands? I haven't seen any of our friends do so.” 

“I might be the only one. I’m a little old-fashioned, but it’s a little easier for me, too. With the snake curse, my magic isn’t as centralized as a normal magic folk’s. Theirs is centered in their soul, but since I share part of my soul with the snake curse, I don’t have as powerful a center. The wand finds the magic folk part of my soul and guides the magic in my blood to more effortless casting."

“So you were hiding it in that secret room? Why not carry it on your person?” 

“Well, it’s a stick, first of all.” A small laugh escaped Janus. “It’s not exactly inconspicuous. I’m not a child. It would be unusual for me to carry around a stick.” 

“But you don’t leave your shop or your home often.” 

“Maybe not. But maybe I prefer not casting magic in my shop and being called old fashioned for using a wand. After all, Roman and Remus could both tell you, unless they’re super conservative magic folk – all 'we need to keep our children safe, we need to segregate ourselves from the non-magic folk so we don’t get persecuted like the witch trials of centuries ago’ - parents aren’t even teaching their kids to use wands for magic. My parents did, but that was only because of the curse. But it would make it a lot easier for any kid – who's barely got a handle on their magic – to have something that finds their center and helps them cast a spell.” 

“What kind of spell casts the night sky? Is it accurate to the one outside, or is it just randomized, except for whatever constellations you know?” 

“It should be accurate to the outside. It’s a spell of my great-grandfather’s. I don’t know the logistics of it. I don’t know how he created it. All I know is the words. I don’t even need to think about the night sky. The wand and the words really help to center my magic. I thought you might enjoy this.” 

“I do. I love space. I didn’t think I’d mentioned that around you.” 

“You haven’t. I didn’t know. I was just hoping you might enjoy the beauty of it, even if you couldn’t identify any more than just Orion.” 

“I know a lot more constellations. How many do you know?” 

“Probably not as many as you.” 

“What’s that one?” Logan asked, pointing at a constellation in the sky. He already knew the answer. He wanted to see if Janus did. Janus’ answer was immediate. Janus then raised his hand to point at a different constellation, asking Logan the same question. They turned it into a game, naming constellations and talking about space until they fell asleep beside each other, under the false sky of stars. 

*** 

When Janus awoke the next morning, he was aware that the pillow beneath his head was moving, though, right away, he didn’t have an explanation as to why. It quickly became clear, however, when he felt his legs curled over another pillow. No, not another pillow. Janus didn’t have a long pillow on his bed. 

Janus’ eyes shot open. He’d kept them closed before, not wanting to face the bright sunlight of the false sky overhead, but now, he knew he needed to open them. It was a moment before his eyes adjusted. Then, he looked over next to him. 

Janus saw his legs curled over Logan’s own and his head rested on Logan’s chest. He flushed in embarrassment then froze in panic. 

He was curled up next to Logan, who disliked being touched. Who’d trusted Janus enough to fall asleep next to him, but wouldn’t trust him anymore, after waking up and finding Janus wrapped around him. 

Janus mentally cursed. He knew it was the snake part of him that had caused this, always seeking out warmth and delighting in the fact that he’d been able to find it in a human companion. He knew he needed to get up and hope and pray that Logan never found out. 

Janus’ movements were slow, cautious, as he lifted his legs from Logan’s own, as he slowly rolled away from Logan’s body, shivering lightly at the loss of warmth. His head fell from Logan’s chest and onto one of the actual pillows on his bed. 

He restored the position he was sure he’d originally fallen asleep in, and closed his eyes, hoping to pretend to be asleep when Logan finally woke up. 

Why _hadn’t_ Logan woken up yet? He was sure to be an early riser, but the sun was already shining in the sky – false or otherwise. 

_He must have been awake, right? But then, why hadn’t he pulled away from Janus? Why hadn’t he said anything, once he’d realized Janus was awake?_

Janus needed to know. He slowly opened his eyes, bracing himself against the brightness of the room. And, as if to procrastinate looking over Logan and seeing any scorn on his features, Janus grabbed his wand – which had tumbled to the floor, along with its box, at some point the previous night – and mumbled the spell to vanish the false sky. 

The room was instantly much darker, only small slivers of light able to filter in through the shutters of the bay window. 

With a sigh, Janus set the wand in its box then set the box on the floor, pushing it underneath his bed, so he could find it again later, to put away. Next, he looked over at Logan, who had shifted to face him, eyes open. Janus mentally cursed again. 

“Good morning, Logan,” Janus stuttered, his voice quiet. 

“Good morning, Janus,” Logan responded calmly, as if he really wasn’t aware that Janus had used him as a pillow the night before. But he didn’t sound like he’d just woken up, even if his voice was a bit thicker, a bit deeper. “Is everything alright?” 

“How long have you been awake?” Janus asked instead. 

“I was able to watch the sunrise from the sky overhead.” So at least an hour, then. _And he hadn’t moved away from Janus, why? And he didn’t seem uncomfortable by Janus, why?_

“And you... didn’t get up to make breakfast or take a shower?” Janus had tried to find the right words, not wanting to ask so bluntly if Logan was uncomfortable with him, now, because he’d unknowingly broken past Logan’s boundaries without his consent. 

“You were still sleeping peacefully. I thought it rude to wake you.” 

“Even though I was curled around you like a boa constrictor to its prey?” Janus didn’t give Logan a chance to answer before he was nervously rambling, unable to stop himself from voicing his worries, once he’d asked the question. “I mean, that’s basically what it was. I’m a snake, and you’re uncomfortable with physical contact. I broke past your boundaries, and I didn’t even know it. How could you wake up and not feel scared, not feel disgusted by me, not worry that I wasn’t going to eat you like a snake or hurt you like a human?” 

“You were unaware of what you had done. I do not fault you. Snakes seek heat, and the best way to get heat is from physical contact. I am not upset with you for needing to use me as a pillow to maintain your comfort. 

“I was not uncomfortable upon waking. I knew who you were and that you weren’t curling up next to me with malicious intent. As a human, I know you won’t hurt me. And if you were to decide to eat me, as a snake, I have to wonder if your body would begin to expand to my height, as snakes do in preparation for eating larger prey, instead of curling smaller.” 

“You’re really not upset? You still want to be my friend?” 

“I’m not upset, Janus,” Logan assured him. “I do not fault you for what happened. I am not upset by what happened. I know, were you aware of it when it was happening, you would have asked for my permission beforehand. 

“I am still lying next to you in this bed, am I not? I haven’t pulled away from you. I haven’t left your house without saying goodbye.” 

“Okay,” Janus said, as Logan’s words sank in. “I’m glad you trust me that much.” 

“You’ve given me no reason not to. I value your friendship.” 

“And I value yours.” The boys gave each other small smiles. “Should I make us breakfast while you take your shower? I probably have to get to my shop within an hour.” 

“If you’d like to make breakfast for us, you can. But I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.” 

“It wouldn’t be an inconvenience. We’ll be leaving together this morning. Making breakfast would give me something to do while you take a shower.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure. Besides, it can serve as an apology.” 

“You have no reason to apologize,” Logan told Janus, knowing exactly what he wanted to apologize for. 

“I’d still like to.” 

“And I’ve assured you that it’s alright.” Logan stood from the bed, effectively ending that conversation. “Would you like to pick out something for me to wear? I know your style differs from mine, but it’s your closet, after all.” 

“Are you letting me give you a makeover?” Logan shrugged noncommittally. He didn’t mind one way over the other. “Roman’s going to be jealous.” Janus smiled. Logan knew that Janus planned to go through with a wardrobe makeover, then. 

“He’s done my makeup before. I think he’ll be alright.” Logan returned Janus’ smile. 

Janus got up from the bed and walked over to stand next to Logan, in front of the closet. Janus pulled it open. He looked at all the items inside, pondering. _Did he want to actually give Logan a small makeover for the day, or did he want to dress Logan closer to his own style: items in Janus’ colors that Logan might wear otherwise?_

Janus stepped closer to the closet, pushing aside hangers as he looked through all the clothes. Logan, meanwhile, grabbed a pair of briefs and a pair of socks from the opposite end of the closet. He would need to wait until Janus had grabbed him an outfit before he could pull out his shoes. 

So, Logan was left to watch Janus, wait, and wonder what Janus would have him wear. Janus pulled out a pair of black jeans. That was the easy part. They both wore jeans. The hard part was grabbing Logan a shirt. _That_ was where their style differences came into play. 

Janus could abide by Logan’s black and blue color scheme but by his own style, or he could abide by his own color scheme but by Logan’s style. He knew he had a yellow button-up shirt in his closet. But there was a shirt in his closet that was catching his eye. He wanted to see Logan wear it, but at the same time, he didn’t want to make Logan uncomfortable. He could present Logan with both options, he decided. So he did. 

Janus pulled out the yellow button-up shirt and a [ black button-up shirt with long, black, lace sleeves ](https://ae01.alicdn.com/kf/HTB1zX1LIkyWBuNjy0Fpq6yssXXak/Black-Lace-Shirt-Men-2018-Autumn-New-Slim-Fit-Long-Sleeve-Mens-Dress-Shirts-Nightclub-Prom.jpg). He held them up so Logan could look them over. 

“Do you have one you’d prefer to see me wear?” Logan asked Janus. 

“I think you should wear whichever one _you’d_ prefer.” Logan looked over both options. He didn’t know what he planned to do that day, so he didn’t know how long he would actually wear the outfit. _Would many people actually see him in either option? If they were to, which shirt would Logan rather they see him in?_

Janus was a bit surprised when Logan eased the black button-up with lace sleeves off of its hanger. Janus put the empty hanger and the yellow button-up back in the closet. He stepped aside so Logan could grab his shoes. 

Once Logan had left the room, his change of clothes in hand, Janus locked his bedroom door. He picked an outfit for himself then changed into it. Next, he left the room and went into the kitchen. 

The shower water was running, Janus could hear. But that wasn’t what was important to Janus. Now, he needed to decide what he would make for breakfast. 

Starting up the coffeemaker was the easy part. Janus knew Logan basically needed coffee to survive. 

From there, Janus pulled open the fridge and the cupboards of his kitchen. He could make pancakes, but he didn’t know how long they would take compared to how long Logan would be in the shower, and he wanted whatever he made to be done by the time Logan was. He could make eggs, but he didn’t know how Logan took his. He had boxes of cereal, but serving up bowls of cereal wasn’t exactly time-consuming – nor was it actually _making_ breakfast. 

But it was Janus’ best bet. He pulled out a box of honey nut cheerios, sure that Logan wasn’t a fan of sugary cereals. He also grabbed the milk carton from the fridge and bowls from a cupboard. 

Janus made his bowl of cereal first. He would wait until he heard the shower water stop running before he made Logan’s. That way, the bowl of cereal would be ready (and not soggy) once Logan had emerged from the shower, put his dirty pajamas in Janus’ laundry basket, and stepped into the kitchen. 

And finally, that time came. Logan stepped into the kitchen to Janus holding out a bowl of cereal in his direction. 

“This isn’t what I was expecting,” Logan admitted. But of course, he took a bite, assuring Janus that it was alright, that he didn’t need a fancy breakfast. 

The two boys stood at the kitchen counter and ate. Once they’d finished, they washed their own dishes. They gathered up anything else they might need for the day, before walking out of Janus’ apartment together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since this this chapter continues directly after the last one, I wanted it to have its own gay joke summary.
> 
> Also, I normally don't do this, but y'all should check out (and follow? Pretty please?) my friend on TikTok (username: @jasminekny)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Remus-typical antics, alcohol, underaged drinking, discussion of sex, referenced underaged sex, swearing, panic attack
> 
> Please let me know if I forgot something or if you would like me to leave a summary in the end notes!

For carpooling purposes, Janus and Virgil had spent the night before the group of six’s trip to Disney World at Remus and Roman’s apartment. Roman had spent the night in Patton and Logan’s dorm room. 

Both groups were, reluctantly (except for Logan, since he was used to this sort of thing), awake before the sun had even risen in the sky, which was barely beginning to turn a light blue. They all did one last check of their suitcases, shoving in toiletries and any other last-minute belongings. They got dressed and had a quick breakfast, and then they were off. 

Logan, used to being awake this early, drove Patton’s car down to the college. He squeezed into the driver’s seat as Patton and Roman climbed in next to each other, in the backseat. He turned on a playlist of classical music (many of them pieces he had learned over years of piano lessons) at a low volume so the two boys in the backseat could sleep peacefully. 

Meanwhile, at Remus and Roman’s apartment, everyone moved much slower. Janus was a little more alert than the rest of them, but that was only because he quickly sought out the coffeemaker and made himself a large cup (and if Remus came in afterwards and drank the little bit remaining in the pitcher, causing Virgil to need to make an entirely new batch for a single cup, no one needed to know). 

Except, Virgil didn’t make himself a coffee. He also didn’t bother applying the makeup everyone was so used to seeing on his face. He only had one goal in mind: making it to the backseat of Janus’ car, so he could go right back to sleep. 

He was the first out the door, but it was certainly not at a quick pace. The click of the car unlocking sounded like heaven to Virgil, and he was quick to proclaim, “I’m going the fuck back to sleep. Wake me up when we get there,” as he climbed into the backseat. Remus followed, his eyes glinting with mischief. 

Janus climbed into the driver’s seat as Virgil’s eyes fluttered shut. But Virgil wasn’t asleep yet. And as soon as Janus started the car and started down the road, the poking started. Remus’ fingernail jabbing into Virgil’s side, his neck, his arm. Virgil squirmed, trying to ignore it and get it to stop. 

But Remus didn’t want to stop. It was like a game to him. A game that was helping him wake up. And if he could get Virgil to give in and wake up, he and Virgil could play all sorts of road trip games. _They would have so much fun_. 

Remus wouldn’t have dared bug Janus while he was driving. But apparently, Virgil had no such reservations. When he got too tired of Remus’ shit, he shouted, “Remus, fucking stop!” And Remus did - for a moment. But as soon as he started again, “Janus, control your fucking gremlin!” 

Janus’ irritated inhale was audible. “Remus-” his voice was cool, level, “-let Virgil nap, or I’m going to pull over this car and drag you into the passenger seat next to me.” He sounded like a parent tired of his chaotic child’s shit. 

Remus huffed, crossing his arms, like a petulant child. But he finally stopped. Virgil was able to fall asleep by the time Logan and Janus arrived at the college and spoke to each other from inside their cars, the sun finally in the sky. Remus, too, was beginning to fall asleep. Janus and Logan planned who would follow who and which route they would take. Then, they drove off. 

For both drivers, it was silent in the cars, aside from the music Logan had softly playing. Roman and Patton had fallen asleep quickly, in the warmth of each other’s arms, heads resting on top of each other’s. 

Logan sipped on coffee as he drove, but he was feeling much more alert than before. He was easily able to lead Janus down the highway, which was about as crowded as one would expect for early morning – even despite the fact that it was Monday morning of spring break for college students and they were bound towards Disney World. 

Patton and Roman slept the whole ride to the hotel, unaware of the toll Logan and Janus had had to pay that Roman had forgotten to calculate for (but it was alright. Both boys had withdrawn more money than Roman had said they would need). Virgil had also slept the whole way, but Remus had woken up a few miles from the hotel. When he saw it, he pointed it out to Janus like an eager child, as if Janus hadn’t seen it, and as if Janus wasn’t following Logan, who no doubt had also seen it, despite his nearsightedness. 

Remus’ enthusiasm woke Virgil, who grumbled angrily about punching Remus if he didn’t shut up. But Remus _didn’t_ shut up, nor did he get punched. Virgil sat up and, like Remus, admired the luxury of Orlando, Florida and the hotel they were going to be spending the next two nights in. 

Janus and Logan pulled into adjacent parking spots in the hotel’s parking garage. They stepped out of their cars. Remus and Virgil followed suit. Patton and Roman were still sleeping peacefully. 

“I can go deal with paying for everything while you wake those two up,” Janus told Logan, gesturing to the backseat of Patton’s car. “You should have your guys’ half of the bill, right?” Logan nodded. “And Remus and Virgil can go settle into their hotel room. And they will _behave_.” This last statement was directed at Remus, along with a glare. 

Remus shot Janus a wide, innocent smile, as Logan reached into the glovebox of Patton’s tiny car and pulled out a thick envelope filled with cash: enough to cover the park expenses, their hotel expenses, and their fee for parking in the garage. “I’ll meet you back out here with the parking permit stickers and the change.” Logan nodded again. He watched as Janus, Virgil, and Remus walked off. 

Then, Logan opened one of the doors to the backseat: the one closest to Roman. He hoped Roman wasn’t the kind to lash out when he was being shaken awake. “Roman,” Logan said, hand gently shaking his shoulder. “We’re at the hotel. You need to wake up.” Roman mumbled incoherently. Logan shook a little harder, noticing how the movement also jolted Patton. “Come on. You’re the one who wanted to come here.” More incoherent mumbling from Roman. Patton’s eyes fluttered open. 

He looked at Logan curiously, squinting behind his glasses. Patton didn’t want to move from his position and jolt Roman. “We’re here,” Logan told Patton. So it looked like Patton would need to. 

Patton eased his head out from under Roman’s, which sent Roman’s head falling to an awkward angle. Patton gave Logan a look that said, “I’ve got this.” Logan nodded, stepping away from the car to wait for Janus’ return. 

Patton lifted Roman’s head in gentle hands and peppered kisses over the entirety of his made-up face. “Come on, Ro,” Patton said kindly, his voice sing-song. “It’s time to wake up. We’re at the hotel.” He ran a hand through Roman’s hair. “Come on, love. Wake up.” Roman was still sleeping, though he did let out a few more mumbles. “If you don’t wake up, we can’t go to the park.” This was said almost teasingly, but it seemed to have the desired effect. Roman’s eyes opened. He smiled sleepily at his boyfriend, close enough to his face that Roman’s eyelashes could brush against the frames of Patton’s glasses. 

“I’m awake,” Roman mumbled, this time coherently. He lethargically climbed out of the car and stretched, Patton following suit. Patton closed the car door as Janus approached their group. Janus slipped Logan the envelope and several sheets of paper. 

“What’s all this?” Logan asked as he perused the papers. He found the parking permit sticker and stuck it on the windshield, inside the car. Janus did the same next to him. 

“Hotel regulations. The receipt,” Janus responded as he tucked his own stack of papers into the glovebox. “You can read the regulations more carefully if you’d like. Someone should. But not Remus. He might feel inclined to see just how many he can break before getting caught.” 

“Sounds like him,” Roman said, from where he stood next to Patton, his arms wrapped tight around his boyfriend, head resting on his shoulder as if ready to fall right back asleep. 

“They’ve got a breakfast bar in the hotel right now, if you’d like to go inside,” Janus told Roman and Patton. Patton’s eyes lit up at the thought of food. Sure, they’d had breakfast, but it had been light. The hotel’s food was sure to be much better, and it was a part of their bill already. “Just follow all the signs.” Patton nodded, eagerly pulling Roman away from Janus and Logan and the cars. 

“Will you help me take their suitcases?” Logan asked with a sigh, as he opened the trunk of the car. Roman and Patton had run off without theirs, too eager to eat breakfast to wait for Logan to open the trunk. Logan still held all the papers. He, of course, would read everything over once he got to his and Janus’ hotel room. “They forgot their room key, as well, I would assume.” 

“I’d _love_ to help you,” Janus drawled. At first, he sounded insincere. “But Remus and Virgil left their own suitcases here. They took their room key from me, at least.” Logan nodded in understanding. He pulled all three suitcases out of the trunk of the car as Janus did the same from his. 

The two boys locked the cars then walked into the hotel together. They were instantly met by both Remus and Virgil (who relieved Janus of their suitcases) and Patton and Roman (who couldn’t relieve Logan of their suitcases because they were carrying a plate each, stacked high with breakfast pastries, and a cup of coffee). 

The group of six took the elevator to their floor, their rooms all within the same hallway, and opened the doors to their respective rooms. (Well, Logan had to open Patton and Roman’s.) None of the rooms looked lived in. The interior was white everything, even the wooden furniture, only excluding the black flat screen TV hanging on the wall opposite the bed. 

Remus and Virgil rolled their suitcases into their room, their door clicking shut behind them in a way that sounded like a death knell to Janus. Because he knew the two alone could be very much chaotic – despite Virgil’s anxiety (Remus could usually goad him enough to get him to agree to some scheme, if he didn’t go too far and cause Virgil to lash out) - and he could only imagine the state of their room by the time they’d both unpacked. 

Patton and Roman followed Logan into their own room, claiming their own sides of the bed by sitting on it and digging into their food. Logan rolled their suitcases next to the respective sides of their beds and set the room key on the nightstand next to Patton’s side of the bed, since it was closer to the door. 

Finally, Janus and Logan entered their own hotel room (in that order). The door closed behind them with its own click that sounded, to Janus, like good times to come, instead of anxiety over the unknown. 

“You’re sure you don’t mind us sharing a bed?” Janus asked Logan, taking a seat on the left side, the farthest side from the window. 

“I'm sure," Logan responded. “It’s not something we haven’t done before.” 

“Well, yes, but last time was different. I didn’t mean to, last time.” 

“Which meant you had no intent of causing me harm, and I’d like to think you don’t intend to do so now, either.” 

“I don’t. I swear.” Janus held up one hand, in the three-fingered salute that stood for Scout’s honor. Neither boy had been a Boy Scout, but they knew what the gesture meant, without needing to say the words. Janus lowered his hand as Logan rolled his suitcase to the opposite side of the bed from Janus. He crouched before it and began to pull out a few of his belongings. 

As soon as both boys had settled in, a knock sounded on their door. Two single taps. Then, mere moments later – before either Janus or Logan had a chance to respond verbally or get up to head to the door - as if whoever was on the other side of the door was horribly impatient, a faster series of knocks started then stopped abruptly. Incoherent muttering came from the other side. 

Both boys stood from the bed. Janus was first to the door, and he pulled it open to see the other four of their group standing there, with varying levels of enthusiasm on their features. Remus and Roman were bouncing on the balls of their feet like excited puppies, Patton wore a large smile, and even Virgil wore a small smile of his own. 

“I assume this means we should head to the park?” Janus asked. His only answer was Remus and Roman shooting off like rockets, with poor Patton, who had been holding Roman’s hand, stumbling along behind him. Janus and Logan looked at each other like a couple of fond parents, following Virgil, who walked calmly, to the park. 

*** 

That night, the group of six retired to their respective hotel rooms, worn out from a day of riding rides, eating park food, buying souvenirs, and snapping photos with different mascots/Disney princesses/what-have-you. Immediately, Janus’ cell phone was out of his pocket and pressed to his ear, and his Macbook was pulled out from a bag within his suitcase. He set himself up on his side of the bed, checking his email and listening to a couple voicemails he’d been left. 

One client had emailed him with a question, saying that the matter wasn’t life or death but they would still appreciate an answer as soon as possible. Without the resources of his shop, Janus had to rely on his memory to aid the client, but he was sure he was remembering everything correctly. He wrote out instructions in what he believed was a clear manner, and he proofread the email a couple of times before he sent it. 

One client had left him a voicemail. The same client who had emailed him. The voicemail was to say (once they’d heard from the voicemail message he’d programmed, as Logan had advised, that he was on vacation) that they would send Janus an email and they hoped to hear from him soon, but also that Janus enjoyed his vacation. It was probably one of his “loyal customers,” as Logan would have called them. Janus wouldn’t have recognized the name, however. 

The other voicemail was from his mother, wishing him a good trip. “Do you mind if I call my mother?” Janus asked Logan, after his mother’s voice had stopped coming through the speaker of his phone. 

“Not at all,” Logan responded. “But you may want to make it quick. The fireworks are supposed to begin soon.” Logan was seated in front of the window, his head tilted towards the sky as if the fireworks were already going off above them. Janus nodded his acknowledgement, but of course, Logan didn’t see it. 

Janus dialed his mother’s number and put the phone to his ear. She answered almost immediately. Janus told her about his day and about his friends. He told her he needed to keep the conversation quick, and they bid each other farewell and said, “I love you,” as the first fireworks began to boom and light up the sky. 

Janus took a seat next to Logan, keeping a respectable distance. He tilted his own head towards the sky to watch the display. 

In Patton and Roman’s room, the two lovebirds were in a similar position, except much closer. Much of their bodies touched. They alternated between watching the fireworks and watching each other. When they would catch each other’s gazes, they would kiss, acting out the cliché of kissing under fireworks. And they loved it. 

In Remus and Virgil’s room, the scene was much different. Yes, they were seated on the floor in front of the window, but they were paying more attention to the array of candy in front of them than the fireworks booming outside and brightening up their room in a multitude of colors. Virgil’s attention was primarily drawn to a clear bottle in Remus’ hand. 

“Do I want to know what that is?” Virgil asked Remus. “Or where you got it from? Or _how_ you managed to get it?” 

“Nope!” Remus replied, popping the ‘p.’ “But do you want some? I can pour you a glass.” He produced two clear wine glasses, seemingly out of thin air. 

“How the hell...?” Virgil asked, somehow still surprised by Remus’ antics. Remus was still waiting for his answer, though he’d already poured himself a glass and drank half of it. “Will it kill me?” 

“Course not! You think I’m gonna kill my best bud?” Virgil rolled his eyes. He grabbed a bag of candy. 

“Fuck it. Pour me a glass.” 

“Hell yeah!” Remus cheered as he poured. “I knew I could get you to loosen up this trip!” 

“Just don’t make me regret it.” 

“I never do.” Virgil took a sip, cringing at the burn of alcohol hitting his throat. 

“Fuck,” Virgil said, his voice gravelly. He coughed. “Yes you do.” His tone was the same. He took another sip, as if it would help to clear his throat. Of course, it didn’t. It didn’t matter. 

Virgil and Remus ate the massive amount of candy in silence, finally turning their attention to the fireworks outside their window. The show was over before they knew it. The candy was gone. The alcohol bottle was almost all the way finished, most of its contents having been drank by Remus, who would probably have a hangover in the morning but wouldn’t let that stop him from enjoying a day in the park. Virgil was almost done with a second glass, and he was bordering on drunk enough to be as chaotic as Remus. And Remus could tell. 

“Think my little bro is fucking his boytoy?” Remus asked, his words slurred. His hand tightly gripped the neck of the bottle, but he wasn’t drinking any more. 

“I really don’t want to think about that,” Virgil responded, his voice flat. 

“Fine then. You think Janny is sucking Logan’s dick?” 

I don’t want to think about that either.” Virgil paused for a moment before he spoke again. “But no. You remember how Logan flinched at your touch. He’s not gonna let J suck his dick.” 

“But they _l_ _ove_ each other. If they’re not fucking, we should make them.” 

“I don’t think that’s in our- what do you have in mind?” Virgil’s tone suddenly shifted. He’d blame his curiosity on the alcohol. 

“Oh, nothing yet. But I’m glad to hear you’re on board. Remind me of everything I tell you tomorrow.” Neither of them would probably remember any of it tomorrow. But still, Virgil nodded his agreement. “I’ll pull Janny away from Logan and take him to that haunted mansion ride or something. You can take Logan to some nerd ride. We'll plant the idea in their heads that they like each other. And right now, they’re staying in a room together. They’ll have one last night of privacy before Logan has to go back to his dorm and to school, and _who_ knows _when Logan will have the chance to visit the shop again? Who_ knows _when they’ll see each other again? Those_ poor _lovesick boys_.” 

“So you want them to fuck in the hotel room where we can hear them?” 

“They're not gonna fuck loudly if they know we can hear ‘em. Unless...” Remus gasped dramatically. “Is J-anus an exhibitionist?” 

“I really don’t want to think about-” Virgil said, his mouth on autopilot. Hearing “exhibitionist” clued him in to something sexual coming out of Remus’ mouth, even if he hadn’t been tuned into the whole phrase. He didn’t want to think about anyone else’s sex life. And then, the full question connected in his brain. “You think I know?” 

“Don’t you?” Remus raised a brow, holding out the bottle of alcohol towards Virgil. Virgil took it and chugged the last of it. Perhaps Remus anticipated that it would loosen Virgil's tongue. Perhaps Virgil chugged the last of it with that thought in mind. After all, how else would he speak about someone else’s sex life? 

“He’s not,” Virgil finally said, answering Remus’ question. 

“But you could tell Logan what gets him all hot and bothered. I’m sure he’ll be glad to know.” 

“I probably shouldn’t tell him that Janus and I used to date.” 

“Ah, so you _are_ off again.” 

“We’ve been off for a while. You think Janus is gonna get a crush on Logan while we’re still on?” 

“Like you _wouldn’t_ be willing to add _that_ to your relationship?” Virgil rolled his eyes. 

“I’m not gonna tell Logan what Janus is into sexually.” 

“But romantically?” 

“I could, _perhaps_ – assuming we both remember this conversation in the morning – hint to him that J is so fucking whipped for him. He’s a big boy, he can do his own work from there.” 

“Mm, so you think he’s hung?” 

“I really don’t want to think about that.” Virgil stood up. “Goodnight, Remus.” 

“If you’re gonna jerk off to the thought of Logan’s huge cock, let me know so I can block it out with my pillow.” 

“I’m not going to be thinking about that at all.” 

“ _Double D’s_ huge D, then.” 

“Also no.” Virgil didn’t bother to pick up any of the candy wrappers, only tossing the alcohol bottle into the trash bin before climbing into the single bed. “Don’t fucking come here and cuddle me, either, or I’ll wake up and murder you in your fucking sleep.” He was back to hating Remus, it appeared. Maybe the alcohol was beginning to mostly wear off. 

“Kinky,” Remus responded gleefully. He was gathering up the candy wrappers. Virgil rolled his eyes before closing them. Soon enough - after he felt Remus crawl into bed but keep his distance – he was asleep. 

*** 

It was everyone’s last night at the park, and with about an hour before it was supposed to close, they’d agreed to meet up at the _Partners_ statue, where they would all decide on one last ride to go on together. Logan and Virgil were first to arrive, after one last round on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride, since Logan had to be early to everything. Next were Patton and Roman, who held each other’s hands and a Mickey bar each. Finally, Janus arrived, dragging Remus behind him. Remus wasn’t “misbehaving,” it was just that he probably would have wanted to ride every ride they’d walked past or visit every shop/restaurant they walked past, and Janus was a very punctual person. 

“Have you guys decided yet?” Janus asked the four already waiting there for them, letting go of Remus’ hand. 

“Not yet,” Virgil responded, since Patton and Roman were too busy eating their ice creams and Logan hadn’t said anything. If Virgil were to look, he’d notice how Logan’s gaze was glued to the side of Janus’ face, where he’d hidden his scales behind a magic glamour. “Why? Have something in mind?” 

“Does anybody have a map?” After a moment of silence, Virgil nudged Logan with his shoulder, since he knew Logan had a map. Logan figuratively jumped into the air, his eyes leaving Janus’ face (and how Janus hadn’t noticed Logan blatantly staring at him, Virgil had no idea. _Was Janus_ that much _of a useless gay?_ ) 

Logan pulled a large map out of the drawstring bag on his back. He opened it up, and everyone crowded around it and him. Very aware of everyone’s proximity, Logan took a deep, shaky breath, shoved the map into Janus’ hands, crinkling the corners, and stepped back. Janus met his eyes, his own filled with concern. Logan still looked panicked, but he wasn’t near a panic attack. He had removed himself from any perceived threat, and he would need a moment to calm down. He couldn’t get his mouth to open to convey this to Janus and Patton, the latter of whom had noticed Logan’s absence a moment after Janus. 

Patton stepped away from their crowd to join Logan. “You okay?” he asked kindly, keeping his distance, setting himself even further from their friends. Logan stepped closer to him. Logan knew him best out of literally everyone in that park. He knew Patton could calm him down. He knew Patton was safe. He knew Patton would never hurt him. Patton was too kind to hurt him. Patton never had any need to hurt him, Logan made sure of it. 

Patton helped guide Logan through a breathing exercise, helped Logan focus on only his voice and nothing else going on around them. Patton assured Logan that there was no threat, no one out to hurt him, that he was there with his friends, who would never hurt him. But Patton also said that if Logan wanted to return to his and Janus’ hotel room early, Patton would walk him there, and Patton would stay with him if he wanted. 

“I’m okay,” Logan finally forced out in a huge exhalation. “I’m okay,” he repeated to assure himself. “We can all go on one last ride together.” 

“Do you think you’re ready to re-join the group?” Patton asked kindly, making sure Logan knew it was okay to say no. Logan took a deep breath, his eyes squeezed shut. He took another, his eyes still closed, his mind repeating Patton's reassurances. Then, his eyes fluttered open. He took one last deep breath, allowing his posture to relax for a moment before he stood ramrod straight, professional, as he usually did. He held his head high, exuding a confidence he was partly pretending to feel. 

“Yes,” Logan responded, taking the first step back towards the rest of his friends. Patton followed. “What have you guys decided?” Logan asked. He still kept a small distance away from the crowd gathered around the map. 

“We’ve narrowed it down to a few things,” Roman responded, holding up four fingers so he could lower them as he listed off the ride names. “The Pirates of the Caribbean ride – though Virgil said he and Logan were just there. Splash Mountain.” 

“I did _not_ agree to Splash Mountain,” Virgil immediately said. 

“It’s a classic!” Roman protested. 

“It has a large drop.” 

“It’s a _classic_. Please?” Roman turned his puppy dog eyes Virgil’s way, the other two items on the list temporarily forgotten. 

“Give them the other options, first. Then we can put it to a vote.” 

“You know you’ll be outvoted.” 

“You never know, Princey.” 

“Princey?” 

“You are _literally_ dressed like a Disney prince.” 

“That’s fair.” 

“The rest of the list?” Logan prompted. 

“Right. The Haunted Mansion and the Prince Charming Regal Carousel.” 

“Let me guess, you’re partial to the carousel?” 

“Actually, our Dark and Stormy Knight over here suggested it.” Logan looked Virgil’s way with a brow raised in curiosity. Virgil’s response was a shrug. Carousels were relatively slow and not loud. They wouldn’t quicken his heart rate and risk triggering a panic attack at the thought of being unable to breathe. 

“Well, I believe we shouldn’t go on a ride that not all of us are comfortable with.” 

“It’s a _classic_ ,” Roman repeated, as if this third time would really make the point sink in for everyone. 

“So are the Pirates of the Caribbean ride and the Prince Charming Regal Carrousel, neither of which Virgil is opposed to. If you so desperately wish to go on Splash Mountain, you can see if there’s time after we all go on this undecided ride together.” Roman pouted, crossing his arms, but Logan knew he was agreeing, in his own reluctant way. “Now, I agree with Virgil that we should put it to a vote. But in order for it to be fair, the rest of you should close your eyes.” 

“Why not you?” 

“Because I, unlike you, can remain impartial.” 

“We’re not even considering my contribution!” 

“Doesn’t matter. I know that I can be impartial and you cannot. Therefore, you shouldn’t have the chance to oversee the voting process and potentially rig it. I wouldn’t put it past you to do that sort of thing again.” The referenced moment didn’t need elaborating on. Roman remembered it. He huffed. His arms were still crossed from before. Everyone but Logan closed their eyes. 

“All those in favor of the Pirates of the Caribbean ride, raise your hand,” Logan instructed. He was quick to count the hands. “All those in favor of the Haunted Mansion ride.” Again, Logan quickly counted the hands. “And finally, the Prince Charming Regal Carrousel.” Logan counted the hands. “Open your eyes.” Everyone did. They looked at him, waiting for him to announce the winner. “The winner was the carousel, by unanimous vote.” Roman cheered, as if that ride had been his first choice. 

Patton and Roman held hands and led the group of six to the ride. Virgil and Remus were next to follow, leaving Janus and Logan at the back of the group. 

They were there before they knew it. They were seated atop horses before they knew it. (Remus made a sexual joke about riding that everyone groaned at and Patton chided Remus for, because “There are kids nearby, Remus!”) 

They closed out their final night at Disney World, together, on that ride. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a day late, because yesterday was Christmas and I'm spending it with my nosy father. This has been sitting in my drafts since Wednesday, and I'm going to trust that 3-days-ago me caught all my mistakes. I hope you enjoy this chapter!
> 
>  **Warnings:** math, mention of bad mental health, toxic relationship

“Hey, uh...” Virgil began, approaching Logan’s desk in their shared English classroom. “You’re good at math, right? That’s a thing with being good at chemistry, right, being good at math?” 

“That is true, yes,” Logan responded, as Virgil reached his desk. “Why? Do you require my assistance with calculating something?” Logan raised his brow in a way he hoped Virgil understood meant that he was referencing magic. Potion-making, perhaps. 

“Not in the way you’re thinking,” Virgil said, seeming to have caught on. “I need actual math help. I have a unit exam coming up, and I don’t think I’ll pass. And I can’t afford not to pass.” 

“Could we discuss this more after class?” Logan asked, as their instructor and the rest of their classmates walked into the room. Virgil nodded, before slipping to the back of the classroom. 

The lecture went by relatively quickly, and Virgil was stood before Logan’s desk while the studious boy packed up his belongings, before he knew it. “The exam is Thursday.” It was Monday. “You don’t have to tutor me or whatever today, but just before Thursday?” 

“How much do you feel you don’t understand?” 

“It might be easier to just show you.” 

“So a lot, then. Let’s go to my tutoring room, then.” Logan stood, slinging his backpack over his shoulders. The two boys walked out of the classroom together. 

“You’re not busy with anyone else today?” Virgil asked, as they walked. 

“I was just going to stop by the shop later today, but it’s not like Janus is expecting me at a specific time.” Virgil nodded in understanding. The two boys stepped into the tutoring room. “You have one hour. That’s how long my sessions typically run.” 

“So you plan on charging me?” The two boys sat down at the large table in the center of the room. 

“Assisting you with something doesn’t cost you anything. But this is tutoring, so it _will_ cost you something.” Virgil nodded his understanding again. “It’ll cost you ten dollars. Surely that won’t be a problem?” Virgil shook his head. “Great. Let’s get started, then.” 

Virgil pulled out his math textbook and opened it to a page bookmarked by a thin packet of papers. The packet, Logan noticed, was a study guide. Virgil set it aside, and Logan picked it up to look through it. 

Virgil had done very few of the problems. The study guide was divided by sections within the unit. The instructions seemed clear enough. 

“What is it you don’t understand?” Logan asked Virgil, sliding the study guide back to him. 

“The biggest thing, I guess, is how do we know what’s true and what’s false? What’s deciding this? Is there some formula I’m missing, or... True or false is an English thing. It’s a ‘is it true or false that Hamlet was gay as hell?’ thing.” 

“Am I to assume that you’re better at English than at math?” 

“Well, I can tell you for certain that Hamlet was gay as hell.” 

“I’m not sure that answers my question. Except to tell me that your reading comprehension skills aren’t lacking. Or that you’re gay as hell, as well, and therefore, you can find homoerotic subtext anywhere there may be a hint of it, such as in _The Great Gatsby_ or between Alexander Hamilton and John Laurens. However, the instructions of these problems are clear to me, and you cannot understand them.” 

“I can understand what they’re asking, I just don’t know how to get what they want me to get.” 

“Did you complete your homework with this same lack of understanding?” 

“I could use my notes and follow the steps my instructor laid out, but we can’t use notes on a test, and I don’t know how they got any of the parts in the steps.” 

“Alright. You said you don’t understand what’s true and what’s false. That’s understandable. It seems a bit random, but here’s what you need to remember...” Logan pulled out a sheet of notebook paper and began writing as he explained the concept to Virgil. 

*** 

The two stayed in the room for longer than an hour, going over the basics of solving the problems, working on examples together, and then having Virgil solve more examples with and without his and Logan’s notes. They’d made some headway, but not quite enough, and Logan made ten dollars. 

Now, Logan was on his way to Janus’ shop. He’d texted Janus to say he was on his way, so Janus wouldn’t close up the shop before he arrived. Plus, Janus had texted him while he’d been with Virgil, saying that he’d like Logan to come by. But he hadn’t explained why. 

Logan slipped through the back door of the coffee shop above Janus’ shop – obviously having been given the okay from Janus, through the barista, to go ahead. “Janus, I’m here,” Logan called out. 

“I’m in my office,” Janus called back. “Can you come back here?” 

“I’ll be there in a minute. I’m going to exchange my books, first.” Janus hummed in acknowledgement, which Logan barely heard, even as he stepped further into the shop. He crouched down before Janus’ large bookshelf to pull the books out his backpack. He stood back up and placed them in their respective places on the shelves. From there, he perused the books with a finger brushing along the spines. He pulled out a few books before crouching back down and tucking them into his backpack. 

Once his backpack was back on his back, weighing slightly heavier than before and making Logan regret not asking Virgil to redo the lightweight charm while they’d had the privacy of the tutoring room, Logan made his way to Janus’ office. He knocked on the door to announce his presence to Janus, who had his nose buried in his computer screen, his eyes focused on whatever he was doing. “Come in,” Janus muttered, knowing it was Logan and not bothering to tear his eyes away from the screen. 

Logan stepped into the room. He stood silently by the door, not wanting to interrupt Janus. There was a short moment of silence before Janus looked up at Logan. 

“Thank goodness you’re here,” Janus said. 

“Do you require my assistance with something, as well?” Logan asked in response. 

“‘As well?’” 

“I just finished an hour-long tutoring session with Virgil. He requested my assistance with preparation for an upcoming math exam.” Janus let out what sounded like a huff. “Is something the matter?” 

“I also need help with math, is all. I have a unit exam due by Sunday at 11:59pm.” 

“May I see what you’re working on?” Janus nodded, giving Logan a “come hither” gesture. Logan stepped up next to Janus, so he could look at the snake-boy's computer screen. “What is troubling you about this?” To Logan, it looked straightforward. But apparently, the stereotype about gays being unable to do math applied to every gay but him. 

“How am I supposed to remember what all these symbols mean? It’s like trying to read hieroglyphics. Or some really ancient magic scrolls.” 

“There’s an ancient magic language?” Logan’s eyes widened in fascination. 

“Yes. But that’s not what’s important right now. I can _sort of_ read those. I can’t read these _at all_.” 

“Alright. Perhaps we need to find a way to strengthen the connection between these symbols and their meanings, in the same way you have to strengthen the connection of the meaning of a word in a foreign language to the associated English word. For example, by understanding that some words are cognates: words that have a common etymological origin.” Janus gave him a confused look. “Words that are spelled and sound relatively the same,” Logan said, deadpan. When he spoke again, his tone was back to informative. “Like ‘water’ and its German counterpart, ‘ _wasser_ ,’ which are, obviously, both of Germanic origin.” 

“What does this have to do with math?” 

“Oh. Right. Sorry.” Logan shook his head, as if to clear a daze. “If we can find connections between these mathematical symbols and the words which they represent, we can strengthen your memory of their meaning. For example, this symbol here-” Logan pointed at a symbol on Janus’ computer screen, “-looks like a pointy N.” 

“It looks like a triangle missing the bottom side. And aren’t N’s already pointy?” 

“Capital ones, yes. But think of the lowercase N. If you neglect to write the first stroke and instead write only the second and third so they make a point, you end up with this symbol.” Logan demonstrated it on a sheet of notebook paper he had pulled out at some point, as he explained it. 

“Okay, but why are we making this connection?” 

“This symbol represents the word ‘and,’ which contains the letter N. Or which can be abbreviated as a lowercase N. 

“Okay...” Janus nodded slowly. 

“You still don’t understand, do you?” 

“ _Of course_ I understand.” Logan sighed. He could tell Janus was lying. 

“Okay, we’ll try again.” And try again, Logan did. He tried for each of the symbols. 

They didn’t make nearly as much progress as Logan would have hoped, in an hour, but Logan did make another ten dollars. 

“If you’d like to meet up with Virgil and I on Wednesday,” Logan said. “I can help the both of you, and you can help each other. That should prove beneficial.” 

“Oh,” Janus replied hesitantly. “Um...” 

“We were originally planning to meet in my tutoring room on campus, but if you would be more comfortable with us meeting here, I’m sure Virgil wouldn’t be opposed.” 

“It’s not that.” 

“If you’d be more comfortable with an individual session, I will not pressure you to join myself and Virgil, but I think it would be more beneficial to you, if you did.” 

“It's... not really that, either.” 

“Are things strained between yourself and Virgil? I did not notice any tension between the two of you at Disney World or in other recent interactions, but I’m not always the greatest at deciphering social cues.” Janus sighed. He removed his hat so he could run a hand through his blond curls. Then, he put his hat back on. 

He was silent, trying to figure out how to explain the problem to Logan, because it was clear he had to. He opened his mouth a few times before closing it again, no words escaping his lips. 

“If it is a personal matter,” Logan said, “you do not need to explain it to me. We can keep _our_ sessions separate from mine and Virgil’s, and I can try to help you to the best of my abilities.” 

“Virgil and I don’t often interact outside of business,” Janus finally said, beginning to try to explain his and Virgil’s situation. 

“But you’re friends.” Logan sounded confused. 

“ _Sure_.” 

“The two of you and Remus are friends.” 

“Remus is maybe the only reason we still are.” 

“But Virgil doesn't seem to like Remus very much.” 

“He likes _me_ much less. Remus is like a buffer.” Janus sighed. He removed his hat to run a hand through his hair again. This time, he didn’t bother to put his hat back on. It wasn’t like Logan hadn’t seen his curls before. “It might take me a while to tell you everything. Virgil and I are... complicated.” 

“And these complications make you hesitant to meet with him for school-related reasons instead of business-related reasons-” 

“Yes." 

“-Even though the two of you seemed friendly enough at Disney World.” 

“Yes.” Logan let out his own sigh. 

“Okay. Should we go to your apartment? You can take as long as you need to explain it there, without worrying about needing to close up your shop and return home.” 

“Just tell Patton where you’re going this time, yeah?” Janus asked, already closing his laptop and packing it up. “We don’t need his friendly-worrying-manifesting-itself-as-a-phone-call interrupting my explanation.” Logan nodded, pulling out his phone to text Patton, as Janus began closing up his shop for the night. 

The two boys left the shop together, taking Janus’ car to the snake-boy's apartment. It was only once they were both seated on Janus’ bed that Janus began his explanation. 

“Virgil and I have been friends since freshman year of high school: back when I had to physically attend my classes,” Janus said. “We became friends quite quickly, as if we could see each other’s parallels: two boys pretending to be edgy but only because they were hiding something big. Two boys who could be soft, if you got past their tough exterior and dark clothing. 

“He found out about my curse fairly quickly. We’d been spending our afternoon in the very coffee shop that now houses my shop, studying for some exam. The glamor to hide my scales wore off. He re-did it for me, silently and wandlessly, and I was in awe. 

“We told each other only one of our biggest secrets, that day. The second secret was revealed that summer, after I’d helped him get started on making and selling simple potions, and I’d started collecting materials to open the shop - though, then, the shop was only meant to be me selling items to Virgil. 

“I kickstarted his potion-making business, and he kickstarted my business-business. But that’s not why things are complicated between us. You’d think that would make everything okay between us, despite how we like to hold it over each other’s heads, sometimes. 

“Coming back to that second secret, it was about as big as the first. My homosexuality. His homosexuality. And just as the first secret was revealed through actions, so, too, was the second. 

“I don’t even remember what he was rambling on about. He was probably panicking about something, and nothing I was saying was getting through to him, so I kissed him to shut him up. And not much later, we started dating. 

“And a couple years later, we stopped. Remus was in our lives, then. He was a customer of mine, as well as a friend, for much the same reason Virgil and I befriended each other. (You’d be surprised how much my business expanded in two years.) Virgil, of course, was still my customer, but things were tense. 

“I wouldn’t be able to tell you why we stopped dating. We were always on and off again, when we were dating. Friendship had been easy; dating was like a minefield. We had no secrets to keep from each other, he met my family, but things became strained, anyway. If we had chemistry, it was only meant as friends. 

“But we dated and it didn’t work out. Things are still strained, even though it’s been about a year and a half since we ‘officially’ called it quits. Because, really, we come back to each other just because. He’ll feel depressed, on top of his normal anxiety, and he’ll call me up, and I’ll be there. We’ll date for a week or two. Or maybe I need his help with something with the shop, and we spend peaceful time together, the tension gone, and so we think that we’re okay to start dating again. And so we do. And then we stop. 

“We’ve been off since January something-or-other. And you became a bigger part of my life – in terms of you visiting the shop – around then. So Virgil hasn’t reached out to me. Things are extra tense, with both tension of us wanting to try again and also tension of us _not_ wanting to try again.” 

“So you think seeing him in an academic setting, despite my presence there, could cause a reaction towards either of those extremes?” Logan asked, once Janus had been silent for a while, sure he was finished telling the story. 

“I’m not sure. Maybe. In a business setting, I have to be professional. I know this (despite how many times with him, in the shop, I _haven’t_ been very professional). Even if we were to study in my shop, it wouldn’t be a professional atmosphere, even though academics are sort of professional. 

“It’s just... our friendship was strengthened because of studying. What’s to say studying couldn’t strengthen our always on-and-off-again feelings for each other? Even if you’re there. I don’t know, maybe we’d rope you into our toxic cycle. Because I know it’s toxic. But that doesn’t mean either of us are really ready to accept that and let it go.” 

“I mean you no offense, but I, personally, believe you have nothing to worry about. Even if your romantic feelings for each other resurface, I am confident in my ability to keep the two of you on track for an hour. What the two of you do after that hour is none of my business. I don’t believe you two could ‘rope me into’ it, either, unless all of us consent to it.” 

“You think someone wouldn’t?” 

“Virgil may not know me well enough to consent to a relationship involving me, especially not since adding me to your relationship would be a deviation from what is considered ‘normal’ for the two of you.” 

“But if he _did_ agree, would you?” Janus met Logan’s eyes, as he asked, and Logan looked away as his cheeks became dusted with pink. 

“I don’t believe,” Logan said, trying to find the right words, “that I should entertain such a hypothetical.” 

“Why not?” Janus, try as he might, couldn’t meet Logan’s eyes again. 

“Encouraging hypotheticals based on emotions is dangerous. It would be unwise, and I do not often do things that are unwise.” 

“Alright. Then, knowing what you know now, what do you think would happen if I joined you and Virgil for a study session?” 

“I suppose you’ll have to wait until Wednesday to see. I should be going.” Logan stood. 

“Or you could stay?” 

“I have class tomorrow morning and none of the necessary materials for it here with me. Nor do I have the proper materials for spending the night at someone else’s place.” Janus sighed and nodded. 

“I’ll let you know if I decide to come.” 

*** 

Janus decided to come. He closed his shop up early, emerging through the back door and into the coffee shop. He was seated at an empty table, nursing a cup of black coffee (as if he thought he might need it to get through the study session with his stability intact), when Virgil and Logan walked through the front door. 

They noticed him immediately. They joined him at the table as if nothing was amiss. Logan sat across from him, and Virgil sat beside him. The edgy boys’ knees brushed as Virgil sat down next to Janus, and Janus wondered if it was intentional. There was a small part of him – a part of him he tried to shut out, then - that hoped it was. 

Janus pulled out his laptop and his notes from a bag, and Virgil pulled his textbook - his study guide nestling inside as a bookmark again - from his backpack. Logan pulled out a notebook and a pencil of his own. 

When the edgy boys were ready to begin the study session, they met Logan’s eyes. Upon receiving this cue, Logan took a deep breath, as if preparing to present a speech, instead of what would inevitably be a list of instructions for the boys to follow for the study session. Logan directed his gaze at Virgil before he spoke. 

“Did you complete any more problems on your study guide?” Logan asked, looking down at the aforementioned document. 

“A couple more, I think,” Virgil responded. Virgil pushed the document towards Logan, sure Logan would want to check his work. To his surprise, however, Logan pushed it back towards him. Virgil gave him a curious look. 

“Review your answers with Janus.” Virgil’s look changed to a suspicious glare, and Janus gave Logan a look like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. 

“Oh, are you two a tag-team tutoring duo, now that you’re fucking?” Virgil asked defensively, his lack of a filter leaving Janus wondering if Remus and Virgil had hung out recently without him (excluding the group’s trip to Disney World). Logan took a slow, deep breath, letting the different sorts of anxiety that statement brought him roll off of him. His next words were slow, controlled. 

“Janus and I are not together. I wanted to go grab myself a cup of coffee. I hadn’t realized that would be enough to set off whatever this-” Logan gestured between the two other boys, referring to the tension that had always hung over them that now had a name, “-is.” Virgil looked away, his cheeks tinted pink. 

“Go ahead, Logan,” Janus told Logan, his voice silky smooth. 

“Virgil, is that alright?” Virgil huffed. 

“Yeah, whatever,” he said. “Go ahead.” It was probably the closest thing to any sort of apology that Logan would get. Logan stood, grateful. “I’ll be back as soon as possible. If either of you have questions you find you cannot answer while reviewing, write them down, and I will answer them to the best of my ability when I return.” Both boys nodded in understanding. Then, Logan was gone. 

Virgil turned to his study guide, which Janus had pulled in front of him. Janus and Virgil both had their eyes on the page, though Virgil’s eyes were unfocused while Janus’ were taking everything in. His own teacher had provided a similar study guide, Janus was sure, but he hadn’t bothered to look at it, instead choosing to review his notes, homework, and quizzes, as well as taking and re-taking the sample exam, hoping to get more right each time, but the questions always had different numbers and formulas. 

“You didn’t do much,” Janus said, once he’d finished looking at all the pages of the study guide. 

“And you could do more?” Virgil asked in response, back on the defensive. 

“I didn’t mean to be rude.” 

“Sure you didn’t, Harvey Dense.” 

“What a _wonderful_ nickname, Virgil. _Thank you_.” Virgil huffed again. 

“Look, can we just get this over with?” 

“You didn’t have to agree to come.” 

“Neither did you.” 

“Well, I did. And Logan would prefer that we quit bickering and focus on helping each other out.” Janus sounded a bit like Logan when he said it. Virgil’s only response was another huff. “What has prevented you from completing these problems? You’ve laid the foundation, but done no more than that.” 

“I filled in more of the table.” 

“Good grief, you weren’t even filling in the _table_ last time?” 

“Shut up. _You’re_ here for a reason, so what’s yours?” Janus mumbled something. “What was that, Jan?” 

“Don’t call me that.” Janus’ words were louder, biting. “And I _said_ , ‘translating the words to symbols. And vice versa.’” 

“You can’t do that? That’s the easy part.” 

“Shut up.” 

“Make me.” 

“Maybe later. If you won’t let me help you, at least help _me_. _I_ wouldn’t like to fail an exam because my ex-boyfriend is too prideful.” 

“I’m _never_ prideful.” 

“What do you call this, then, Virgil? Because your head looks about as big as Remus always says his brother’s is.” At that moment, Logan slid back into his seat, a large cup of black coffee (yes, with five shots of espresso) in hand. 

“So, I see neither of you got anything done except waste your time by bickering,” Logan said. Janus and Virgil flushed, turning away from each other and from Logan. “Right. If this arrangement today is going to be a problem, tell me now, so we can break up this session and I can work with you individually.” The other two boys mumbled something. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” 

“It’s _fine_ ,” the two boys said in unison, their emphasis harsh. They both took a deep breath before turning back to Logan, who had pulled Virgil’s study guide in front of him. 

“If I am understanding our situation correctly,” Janus began, looking at Logan as if gauging his approval of his intellect, “then you believe that what we do and don’t understand in regards to this unit complement each other. Virgil can understand turning the words into symbols, but he cannot figure out the validity of the statement once he has done so, using said symbols. I, on the other hand, can figure out the validity of the symbolic statements, because I have memorized what patterns dictate truth versus false. However, I cannot turn the words into symbols, because I haven’t fully strengthened the literary meaning of the symbols alongside the associated valid/invalid patterns.” 

“That’s exactly it. Though I wish you two had figured out more than just that on your own.” Logan shook his head. “That’s not important.” Logan turned the study guide towards them, still keeping it in front of him. “Working together, using your complementing strengths and weaknesses, solve...” Logan flipped through the study guide then pressed a finger to the page, “this problem. I’m going to start on my own homework, so if I hear any more bickering from the two of you, we’re going to have a problem. Do you understand?” The other two boys crossed their arms like petulant children, but their agreement was given in a reluctant nod. “Thank you.” 

Logan turned away from the two boys to grab his homework and textbooks from his backpack. It was silent as he did so, and it was silent, still, as he laid out everything on the table (pushing the study guide closer to the other boys) and got started working. 

Logan read a page of his textbook in total silence (from _his_ table, anyway). The silence persisted as he finished a second page. But there was a part of him that wondered if this silence was because they were respecting his wishes and working together peacefully ( _though didn’t collaboration usually require talking?_ ), or if it was because they were glaring at each other and _not_ working. 

Logan looked up past the frames of his glasses to see Virgil and Janus working. But it didn’t look like they were working _together_. They each had a sheet of notebook paper in front of them, and they were scribbling on it intensely. Then, Virgil’s sheet of notebook paper changed hands. Janus’ writing on his own page stopped. He read Virgil’s paper then began writing on it. 

Pretending to be reading, Logan watched this exchange curiously. Perhaps the two had overcome their resentment and found a way to work together, after all. 

After watching long enough for Virgil’s paper to return to his hands and for Virgil to begin writing on his study guide while Janus wrote on his own sheet of notebook paper, Logan returned his full attention to his book. It was interrupted a moment later by a loud, simultaneous, clearing of throats. 

Logan sighed. He finished reading the sentence he was on and marked his place with an arrow-shaped sticky note. He looked up at the two other boys. Virgil pushed his sheet of notebook paper in front of Logan. 

On the paper, front and center, was the problem Logan had asked the two boys to solve and its solution. Whether it was correct or not would remain to be seen, as Logan’s gaze was drawn to two different sets of writing littering the margin, both in black ink. 

Logan read through the notes the boys had written each other. Any notes not about math appeared to be crossed out, so Logan couldn’t violate their privacy. 

These notes allowed Logan to see them working together, helping each other better understand what the problem was asking and how to get to the correct solution. And finally, Logan’s eyes returned to the solution, itself. 

It was in Virgil’s handwriting, but Logan was confident that both boys had gotten the same answer. He looked it over, squinting his eyes behind his glasses as he concentrated on solving the problem in his head. He ran a finger down the rows of the table, slowly, checking their work. The red pen Logan had tucked in the pocket of his button-up shirt never left its place. 

“This is correct,” he told them. There was an audible exhalation from the other two boys. “Do you have any questions for me?” Logan waited silently, letting the boys think it over. 

“None,” Janus answered truthfully, on behalf of both him and Virgil. 

“Good. Work on the next problem, then, so I can finish my reading.” Janus and Virgil nodded, before turning their attention back to the study guide. Logan’s attention returned to his book, and it was once again silent as he read. 

Much faster than the first time, it seemed, the boys finished solving the problem. Again, they solved it right. Again, they had no questions for Logan. So next, Logan tasked them with working on the next problem on their own. He stood one of his textbooks between them, trusting that they would not try to look over it to see the other’s answer. 

This time, it took them a bit longer to finish. Yet, they came to the same answer, and the answer was correct. Logan had them do the same with the next problem, receiving a similar outcome. 

To finish off their session for the day, Logan had Virgil finish up his study guide and had Janus re-take the sample exam online that he had already taken so many times but hadn’t yet passed. Logan was able to get much more done, in this time. 

Janus was first to finish, and Logan and Virgil only knew this because of a whoosh of breath that sounded like him quietly cheering, “Yes!” Logan stopped his work to look up at Janus. Virgil kept working as Janus turned his Macbook Logan’s way, so Logan could look at the score. 

“Not bad,” Logan complimented, upon seeing the passing score on the screen. “Are you able to see which questions you got wrong?” Janus nodded. He turned the computer screen back towards him so he could do so. Then, he turned it back Logan’s way. “I don’t want to see it. _You_ look at it. What do you think you did wrong?” Janus turned the computer screen back his way, brows furrowed and lips turned down in confusion. 

Virgil removed the book barrier, signalling to Logan that he was done. Logan took his book back, tucking it and the rest of his belongings back in his backpack, before he grabbed Virgil’s study guide. Logan pulled out his red pen and used it to scan the lines of Virgil’s handwriting. 

As Logan flipped pages, he made a few, occasional marks in red ink. And finally, he closed the packet and slid it back towards Virgil. Virgil looked over the questions he answered incorrectly, as Logan capped his pen and tucked it back in his pocket. Logan looked Janus’ way to see he was still working. 

Feeling satisfied at a successful session – and much more confident in the boys’ ability to pass their exam – Logan took a sip of his coffee. Almost as soon as that was finished, two curious pairs of eyes met his, awaiting his verdict. 

“I think we’re done,” Logan told them both. “Unless either of you have any remaining questions?” Virgil and Janus pondered it for a moment then shook their heads simultaneously. “Then we’re done here. Good luck on your exam.” Logan grabbed his coffee and stood, prompting Janus and Virgil to gather up their belongings, pack them up, then do the same. 

Virgil and Janus each handed Logan a ten-dollar bill, which he thanked them for. “I’ll see you both soon,” Logan said, before making his leave. This left Virgil and Janus alone, standing beside the table in the coffee shop. They looked each other’s way, curiously, as if waiting to see if the other would kill them because of their tension-filled disagreement earlier. 

Virgil shrugged, as if in answer to the question running through both of their heads. He quirked a brow at Janus, as if to actually ask the question. Janus also shrugged, his lips pursed. He side-eyed the back door of the coffee shop, through which one would find his own shop, before looking back at Virgil. As if challenging Virgil to follow him down and see. Or follow him down if he decided to kill him. 

Virgil shrugged again, and Janus stepped away from the table. Janus walked right past the counter and through the back door of the coffee shop. He took the steps carefully down to the darkness of his shop. He swore he could hear light footsteps behind him. This was only, finally, confirmed, when Janus reached the bottom step and flicked on the light. The shop was illuminated. 

Janus turned to look behind him. Virgil had followed him down, after all. 

“Can I help you?” Janus asked professionally, as if being in his shop flipped a switch to professionalism in him. 

“You know what I want,” Virgil responded, metaphorical hackles raised. 

“Yes, I _absolutely_ do.” Janus was obviously lying, Virgil thought. He leveled Janus with a glare. Janus raised his hands, as if in surrender. “I really don't.” This time, Janus sounded genuine. “Is there something you need from my shop? Or something you need… from me?” Janus' voice seemed to soften. 

“I have a question.” Virgil's voice was equally soft, his metaphorical hackles lowered again. Janus waited for Virgil to speak again. “You like Logan, don’t you?” 

“As a friend, of course.” 

“You know that's not what I mean.” Janus sighed. 

“I do.” His voice was genuine, vulnerable, and still soft, as he answered Virgil's question. Metaphorical shutters blocked out the windows to Virgil's soul. In other words, the emotions in his eyes became unreadable. But they were there. “What's wrong?” 

“It doesn't matter.” Virgil turned away from Janus. “I just needed to know.” He took a step away from Janus. Janus grabbed his wrist before he could go any farther. Virgil turned harshly, glaring. “What?” His voice was loud, angry. 

“Why has my answer upset you?” Despite Virgil’s aggression, Janus’ voice was still soft. 

“It doesn't-” Virgil paused for the effect, “-matter.” 

“It does.” 

“ _Why_?" Virgil would deny the tremor in his voice. "You don't care about me. You don't _like_ me. You're in love with _Logan_.” 

“And you like me.” Janus' voice was soft still. But now, he'd come to a realization. Virgil harshly pulled his arm out of Janus' grasp. 

“It doesn’t _matter_ if I do, because _you_ like Logan, and _we're_ not friends.” 

“We _are_ friends. Virgil, I care about you still, even if it's not in the way you want me to. We've been friends for a long time. I didn’t think us breaking up had erased all that. I knew Remus and your business were the only reasons you kept your peace with me, but…” 

“You never told me why you were breaking up with me. I just assumed your love ran dry. Now, I know it has. But still, if I needed you, you were there.” 

“I believe Remus would call it ‘fuck buddies.’ But that still means friends.” 

“I’d consider it leading me on.” 

“But you still came back to me.” 

“Of course I did. Because I love you still. But you love Logan. So you don't have to worry about me coming back again. I’ll only come back for business.” Virgil turned away again. When he took a step, Janus didn't stop him. 

“I figure you won't accept an apology.” 

“Shut the fuck up.” Janus nodded, his lips pressed into a tight line, though Virgil couldn't see it. Virgil was more focused on leaving the shop. And then, he was gone. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! I hope 2021 is better for all of us. I love you all so very much. Thank you for all your support <3
> 
> (I know this chapter isn't necessarily late, but I'm just going to use this opportunity to mention that I prioritized watching TheMischiefManagers (on YouTube) new video this morning. They're a Harry Potter cosplay channel, but they're so inclusive of the LGBT community (I believe all the creators are members themselves) that they have a whole series around it. They're the reason I figured out I was genderfluid. So maybe check them out?)
> 
>  **Warnings:** a single swear word, implied sexual content?

It was about ten o’clock on Friday morning, when Logan knocked on the door to Patton’s bedroom. He heard grumbling and whining from the other side of the door. He almost considered apologizing and backing away, sure he must have woken Patton. He’d rather not upset the person who knew where he lived and slept for something that he might not even care much about, anyway. 

Before Logan had the chance to turn away from the door, however, it opened. Patton greeted him with a smile and an enthusiastic, “Hey, Lo!” not sounding at all like Logan had woken him up with his knocking. _Maybe he’d just been texting Roman and hadn’t wanted the interruption? Or maybe he just hadn’t wanted to get out of bed and face the day yet?_

“What can I do for you?” Patton asked, still chipper as always, after Logan hadn’t returned his greeting. 

“I... wanted to talk to you about something,” Logan responded, suddenly hesitating. 

“Well, come on in!” Patton said, stepping aside so Logan could step inside Patton’s room. 

In their months of living together, Logan had had yet to actually be inside Patton’s room. And now, he took it all in. The white walls that matched his own. The dresser, closet, and window on opposite sides from what Logan was used to, since Patton’s room was across the hall from his. The identical bed in the center, except Patton’s bedsheets were white and appeared to have cartoon figures on them. Logan didn’t recognize the cartoon. 

Patton had multiple photos taped to the wall above his bed. If Logan had bothered to look closer at them - instead of sitting on Patton’s bed after Patton had prompted him to do so, so he could close the door behind Logan – he would have noticed himself in some those photos. Him and Patton and Roman, faces all made up: their first visit to Maisey and Bill’s. Logan cooking in the kitchen (Patton’s caption written on the Polaroid in light blue ink, reading, “New Best Friend!”). 

“Is something wrong?” Patton asked Logan, taking a seat next to him on the bed. 

“Nothing is the matter,” Logan responded honestly. “However, I wished to speak to you about something, and while I may consider it important, you may not feel the same. If you wish for me to stop talking at any time, let me know.” 

“Why would I-? Logan, anything you’d have to say to me is important.” 

“It’s just that it’s a matter of feelings.” Patton remembered why Logan felt that that was a bad thing. 

“Alright...” Patton said cautiously. Logan looked nervous to continue, avoiding Patton’s eyes and wringing his hands in his lap. “What kind of feelings?” Patton asked, to prompt Logan to continue. 

“Well, I’ve conducted many hours of research and taken tests created by numerous experts, and I’ve come to the conclusion that I am experiencing romantic feelings for someone.” Patton bit back a squeal of excitement. He fought hard to keep a bright grin off his face. He fought hard to keep his overwhelming curiosity in check. 

“Would you be comfortable telling me who that is?” Patton already had a guess. 

“I think you know. Hence why I’m coming to you with this.” Patton understood. He nodded. 

“If you’re asking for my permission, you have it. Of course you have it.” 

“That’s not- Actually, I- Yeah. Thank you. But- That's not all.” 

“Alright. What else is there?” 

“How do I tell him?” Patton had to bite back another excited squeal at Logan coming to him for _relationship advice_ , for Logan trusting him enough to come to _him_ with something as difficult for him as discussing his feelings (even if, perhaps, it was only because of his relation to Janus, and therefore, he would know him best). 

“I don’t know if I’m the best person to ask that.” Patton sounded sad when he said it. 

“But you know Janus best. Not to mention, you are currently in a romantic relationship.” 

“Yes, but _Roman_ was the one who asked me out. _Roman_ was the one who first told me he liked me. I can tell you what Janus likes, but when it comes to talking to him about how you feel about him, I don’t know what the best approach would be.” 

“If you’d been given the chance to tell Roman how you felt before _he_ had, what would you have said?” Logan pulled a notepad out of his back pocket and a pen from behind his ear. (He wasn’t wearing a shirt with a pocket today.) Patton had to think over Logan’s question. 

“I might’ve been really nervous to tell him,” Patton finally said. “When _he_ said it, he seemed so confident, as if it was some indisputable fact. And, I mean, I _know_ it’s that, but I still think I would’ve flubbed it. I might’ve started talking about the cookie that started our friendship, and maybe all that would’ve gone fine and well, but as soon as it came to the ‘I like you’ part, I might’ve flubbed it. Stumbled over my words, because he’s so _damn_ pretty, and how could he _ever_ fall for someone like me?” 

“Unrequited feelings.” Logan said it like a question. Patton nodded. “So you would have told Roman, even if you thought he didn’t feel the same?” 

“I’m sure that’s how he felt when he told me. I’m sure that’s how it’ll feel when you tell Janus.” 

“So I should be prepared for rejection.” Logan suddenly looked very insecure. 

“Woah, no,” Patton said immediately, holding up his hands in a way that was meant to be placating. “No. Don’t even worry about that.” 

“But you’ve expressed that feeling like you may be rejected is typical to experience when confessing your feelings for someone else.” 

“Yes, that _feeling_ is to be expected. But it actually happening? In general, who knows? But between you and Janus? He’d be stupid to tell you he doesn’t share your feelings.” 

“Then, if I don’t need to worry about that, I need to worry about ‘flubbing’ my declaration.” 

“Maybe.” 

“So I can write down a speech and present it to him.” 

“I don’t know if that would be ideal. I don’t think it would feel natural.” 

“It needs to feel natural? How so?” 

“I don’t know if it necessarily has to, but it might feel more genuine that way? I guess it depends on who you are. Roman said it spontaneously, but he’s like that. I’m kind of like that. But neither you or Janus are like that. A speech seems too professional to me, but maybe he’d think it was cute coming from you.” 

“So should I write a speech?” 

“Oh, Lo, I don’t know. I’m glad you trusted me enough to talk about this, but I really don’t think I’ll be much help. I think you just have to do what feels right to you, whether that’s a spontaneous confession or a heartfelt speech over homemade dinner.” 

“Homemade dinner?” 

“It’s not required. But I feel like it would be a private moment. I feel like a confession of liking wouldn’t be something you’d want to do in public. And a homemade dinner is something planned, versus – even if you _had_ prepared a speech – saying it while he was working or something.” 

“Does it need to be a whole ceremony of a thing? I can’t tell him I’d like to talk to him about something, sit him down, then tell him?” 

“I mean... I suppose you could do that, if that’s more your style. I just... I feel like I’d be awkward that way.” 

“But we’re not talking about you.” Logan didn’t mean it to be rude, Patton knew. “We're talking about Janus. The two of you aren’t very similar, despite the fact that you’re mostly identical.” 

“You could always ask him what he likes?” 

“But wouldn’t that make my intentions obvious? And besides, he’d list material items, and I don’t plan to shower him with gifts like a Victorian man might, sometimes, a woman. Except, with that, it could easily be interpreted as purely platonic...” 

“Maybe you should talk to Roman about this, Lo. Seriously. He might be more help on the wooing or confessing front than me.” Logan nodded, seeming a bit downtrodden. 

“Sure. I’ll text him.” 

“Invite him over when you do, will you?” 

“You’d like to see him?” 

“I always do. That’s part of liking someone.” There was a moment of silence before Patton spoke again. “Is that not how you feel about Janus?” Logan shrugged. “Is that not why you’re always visiting his shop, other than to return his books?” Logan shrugged again. “What kind of tests did you take?” 

“I just typed ‘Are you in love?’ into Google, and a few quizzes popped up. So I took them.” Patton nodded slowly. 

“And they said you’re in love with Janus?” 

“Yes.” 

“Maybe include that in your speech.” Patton smiled softly. 

“That I took Internet quizzes?” 

“I think it’s cute. And I’m sure he would, too.” 

“Would you like to help me write my speech? Roman could help me figure out when to present it, but you could help me figure out if Janus would like it or not.” 

“I don’t think you should put so much thought into it. Speak from your heart.” 

“You know I’m not very adept at that.” 

“I think you’re better at it than you think you are. Here.” Patton held out his hands, silently asking Logan to hand him the notepad and pen. Logan did. “Close your eyes.” Logan raised a brow curiously. Patton nodded. Logan relented. “Answer with the first thing that pops in your head.” Logan’s lips turned down in confusion. 

“What is _love_ to you?” Patton asked. 

“Love is a chemical reaction in the brain caused by the release of oxytocin, dopamine, and serotonin.” This wasn’t the answer Patton was looking for or expecting, but still, he scrambled to write it out on a blank page of Logan’s notepad. 

“I’m going to say my brother’s name. Describe the scene that pops into your head.” Logan nodded hesitantly. “Janus.” Logan didn’t speak for a moment. “The very first thi-” 

“We’re in the shop. In the even-further-back room. Sitting next to each other, legs only inches apart, but I don’t feel anxious by his close proximity. We’re eating pasta that I made for him, using your mother’s secret ingredient. Just like you, he loves it. But I don’t think that’s why he’s happy. 

“He looks at me softly. I would swear it was love, but that could just be me assuming things, projecting my own feelings onto him. I know that I’m meeting his eyes with love in my own. I’m happy, too. Happy to be with him. Happy he’s in my life.” Patton was writing everything down, though he had to stop to wipe a tear from his eye at Logan’s poetic description. 

“Maybe you should recreate that scene,” Patton said softly, “when you tell him.” 

“Maybe,” Logan responded, keeping his eyes closed. “But maybe I’ll run the idea by Roman, too. I can invite him over for you and tell him.” 

“Okay. But I’m not done with the questions.” 

“You have more?” Logan sounded like he was ready to be finished with the whole ordeal. 

“I do.” Logan sighed. Patton opened his mouth to ask the next question. 

*** 

"I was a little surprised you contacted me," Roman said, as he slid into the seat across from Janus at a table in the coffee shop. Janus was nursing a black coffee, and Roman had his own fancy frappuccino that had probably terrified the poor barista. "You're friends with my brother, after all." 

"I didn't realize the two were mutually exclusive," Janus drawled, interrupting whatever Roman had planned to say next. "Though _we're_ not exactly friends." 

"What do you need from me, Janus?" His voice held a similar hostility to that which Virgil had had with Janus in their last interaction. _Maybe the two would get along well_ _, but that_ _wasn't what was important right now._

"I wanted your help with something." 

"Something like...? You're the one who owns a-" Roman's voice lowered to a whisper for the next word, before returning to its normal volume, "- _magic_ shop." 

“It has nothing to do with that. This is a more... personal matter.” 

“Personal? Do you mean _Logan_?” Roman’s voice was sing-song, teasing. Janus sighed, removing his hat to run a hand through his hair. 

“I’d forgotten you were like this, too. This was a mistake.” Janus stood. 

“Hey, wait! ‘Too?’” Janus turned to meet Roman’s gaze with a fiery one of his own. 

“Yes, ‘ _too_.’ Your brother would have said the exact same thing. Or, well, he would have been a bit more crude about it.” Roman held his hands up. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll stop.” Roman sounded a bit hurt. Turned out a comparison to his brother was all it took to upset him. ~~Janus would have to remember that.~~

Janus sat back down. He looked at Roman, checking if the boy could be serious. Roman met his gaze. Neither of them backed down, until Roman blinked, his eyes stinging. 

“Thank you,” Janus said. 

“For what?” Roman responded. 

“For agreeing to help me with this.” 

“I didn’t agree.” 

“But you will.” 

“How can you be so sure?” 

“I could always ask _someone else_ for relationship advice.” 

“I’ll help!” 

“I figured that might work.” Silence fell over their table. Eventually, Roman broke it. 

“So... do you have a plan?” 

“No. That’s where you come in.” 

“It needs to have a personal touch. I can’t come up with it for you.” 

“Just tell me what he likes.” 

“Shouldn’t _you_ know that, too? The two of you are friends.” 

“You’ve known him longer. And I don’t want to mess this up. I don’t want to upset him or scare him away.” 

“I mean, I’ll have to think about it.” Janus’ eyes narrowed. 

“What do you mean, ‘think about it’?" 

“Exactly what it means. I can’t come up with romantic plans on the fly.” 

“How long do you need to think about it?” 

“I dunno. We’ll see.” 

“Don’t clue him in to what you’re doing.” 

“Come _on_ , now, Janus, I have more tact that that.” 

“ _Do you_ , Mr. Not-So-Subtle-Sex-Jokes?” 

“I swear to you, I do.” Janus rolled his eyes. 

“Whatever. We’ll pretend I believe you. Let me know when you have a plan, okay?” 

“It might be a while.” 

“As long as it's perfect.” 

“I do _everything_ perfect.” 

“That’s a lie,” Janus coughed. Roman huffed. He stood. 

“Anything _else_ , Janus?” 

“I don’t know. Is there _anything else_ , Roman?” Janus’ voice sounded mocking. 

“I don’t like you,” Roman retorted, pouting. 

“Not many people do. But I’m hoping Logan does. I’m hoping I can trust you not to screw this up for me.” 

“I suppose I shouldn’t ask what’s in it for me?” 

“Beyond finally seeing Logan and I get together?” 

“Fair enough.” 

“Thank you. I should get back to work.” Roman nodded. Janus stood from the table. 

“Let me know as soon as you’ve thought of something,” Janus repeated. 

“ _Relax_ , Banana-conda, I will.” Janus nodded, though he did look a bit put back by the nickname Roman had graced him with. But the matter was settled, and so, Janus walked off. He walked through the back door of the coffee shop, aware of Roman’s eyes on him. The door closed behind Janus, and he took the steps down to his shop. 

He needed to erase the thoughts of Logan from his mind and get back to work. He would have to forget that he’d entrusted Roman with something this important and get back to work. He had to get back to work. 

*** 

“You’re kidding,” Roman said to Patton. The two were seated on the couch of Logan and Patton’s dorm room. Logan was there, too, just in the kitchen and not the living room. 

Patton had finally finished with his questioning, allowing Logan to invite Roman over to help him with his “problem.” Roman had finished things up with Janus at the coffee shop, so he was there quite quickly. Logan had stepped out of the room to prepare snacks for the three of them. 

Mostly, he hadn’t wanted to be there when Patton told Roman everything that Logan had told him. Logan’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment at the thought. As if he was worried that Roman would judge him. As if he didn’t know that Roman would jump at the chance to meddle in his love life and “finally” get him and Janus together. 

Logan could hear Roman’s remark and could hear as Patton continued to explain his situation. And then, even despite the fact that he wasn’t in the same room as Roman and Patton, Roman addressed him. “Oh, Logan!” he called out, his voice sing-song. Logan stepped into the living room, gaze glued to the floor. “No need to be shy. Just need to ask you something.” Logan still didn’t look up. He didn’t see Roman’s pout. “Fine, be that way,” Roman muttered petulantly. 

“What do you _want_ , Roman?” Logan asked, his tone harsh, reminding him that _Roman_ had been the one to call him in there. Logan squeezed his eyes shut, body tensing.

“Any chance you’d be willing to make a grocery run by yourself real quick?” 

“Why...?” Logan looked up only to squint at Roman suspiciously, his body maintaining the tension. After all, he’d called Roman over to enlist his help with his whole _feelings_ situation, _and now Roman was asking him to leave? That didn’t seem very wise._ Roman was silent. He appeared to need to think of an answer. That made Logan even more suspicious. “Well?” Logan asked, after a long enough moment of silence. 

“Just... pretty please?” Roman gave him the puppy dog eyes look. Unprompted, Patton followed suit. The force of their wide eyes and quivering lips were too much for Logan. He couldn’t refuse, even if alarm bells were ringing in his head. 

“What do you need?” Logan asked begrudgingly, sighing. His posture straightened as he lost the tension in his body. _Everything would be fine_. 

“What do we need, darling?” Roman asked, turning to Patton. Both boys lost the puppy dog eyes look. Patton smiled softly at the pet name. 

“Well, I’m sure Logan has a list on the fridge of things.” He did. But it was only a couple items. He didn't usually consider that enough to warrant a trip to the grocery store. “But he could always go out and buy a box of chocolates.” This was meant to clue Logan in to the fact that it could be considered a romantic gesture for Janus, but Logan didn’t seem to pick up on it. “He might not be able to find the heart shaped boxes, since it’s not Valentine’s Day anymore, but...” Patton continued, trying to help Logan get the hint. Logan knew there was some message he was supposed to be getting. But he wasn’t. So he shrugged. Patton sighed. 

“Janus likes chocolate,” Patton said bluntly, if not a bit disappointed in Logan (though perhaps that was just Logan magnifying). A metaphorical lightbulb went off above Logan’s head as he made the connection. He nodded his understanding. Patton smiled. 

“Anything else?” Logan asked. Patton and Roman thought it over. 

“Don’t think so. Have fun, Lo!” Patton smiled wider. He waved, as Logan walked out of the dorm room. The two boys sitting on the couch waited for a couple minutes, to see if Logan was really gone, before one of them broke the silence. 

“Thank _goodness_ ,” Roman said. “Now I can tell you something you’ll _really_ want to hear.” Patton waited, leg bouncing a little in his excitement at whatever Roman had to tell him. “I just came from a meeting at the coffee shop with your brother.” 

“A business meeting?” 

“Nope.” Roman popped the ‘p.’ “A _personal_ meeting.” 

“You mean _Logan_.” 

“That’s what _I_ said.” 

“So, what did he want?” 

“For me to come up with a romantic way for him to confess his feelings.” 

“Just like Logan wants you to do.” 

“Mhm,” Roman hummed. 

“So are you going to have them both confess to each other?” 

“I didn’t think of that. That probably wouldn’t be ideal, but I can’t exactly tell one of them, ‘no, don’t say anything, _they_ will.’” Roman frowned, thinking it over. “Too bad there’s no way to tell them to just wait it out, let it happen naturally. Logan wants to write a whole _speech_.” 

“Well, but Janus doesn’t know what to do. You can’t exactly leave him floundering, but you could, maybe, tell him to drop hints. If he drops enough, maybe Logan will realize and he’ll be spurred on to present his speech, and when he finally says it, Janus will be all, ‘That’s what I’ve been trying to say this whole time.’” 

“You know, that might just work.” Roman pressed a quick kiss to Patton’s lips. “But you wanted Logan to go on with the dinner idea, didn’t you?” 

“He still could. We could take a long while to help him plan out the dinner in excruciating detail, and meanwhile, you have Janus present him with little gifts. Like _Victorian courting_ , like Logan mentioned to me earlier.” 

“Would Logan like that?” 

“It’s a historical ritual. He likes smart things like that. And I think he said that the ritual meant there was no pressure for the feelings to be romantic in nature. So he wouldn’t feel pressured to rush the confession. That’s assuming he realizes what Janus is trying to do.” 

“You think he wouldn’t?” 

“I had to spell out for him that Janus likes chocolate, love.” 

“Fair point,” Roman conceded with a smile. “But what will we have him do with the chocolate we just made him buy for Janus?” 

“Put it in the fridge and save it until he finally confesses? We could orchestrate the whole thing here. Logan might feel better having our moral support.” 

“Should we be here for it, though?” 

“We could bring it up with him and see what he says.” 

“Alright. Do I let Janus know the plan now?” Patton hummed, thinking it over. 

“Maybe give it a day? Let him think you put a lot of work into thinking it over.” 

“But I did!” 

“I know. But it also hasn’t been very long. He’s the type to equate hard work with working a long time, kind of like Logan.” Roman sighed. 

“So what do we tell Logan when he comes back? Do we wait a day, too?” 

“I honestly think he’s expecting an answer now.” 

“Oh. So we tell him now.” 

“Maybe?” Patton didn’t sound very sure at all. “What do you think?” 

“I don’t know! That’s why I asked you!” Roman sighed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be loud.” 

“It’s okay. I didn’t mean to frustrate you.” 

“It’s okay. We’ll figure this out. How much longer do you think we have until Logan gets back?” 

“I’m not sure.” Patton pursed his lips. Roman couldn’t resist kissing him, longer this time, taking advantage of the time they had alone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter, but we're getting into the romance plot now :)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** threats of murder, body horror  
> (If you need to skip over this kind of content, stop reading at _"You can't tell him you know," Roman told Janus firmly..._ and begin reading again at _"Understand?"_   
> I can leave a summary in the end notes if need be, but skipping over just that section doesn't take away from the plot)

When Logan returned to Janus’ shop the next week, he tried not to let his realization make his interaction with Janus awkward. He walked down the steps and into Janus’ shop as he always did, armed with a new type of coffee, since it had been a while since he’d played his “game” with Janus (which Janus still didn’t know he was a participant of, Logan was sure). 

“Janus?” Logan called out, both to announce his presence to the other boy and to get some clue as to where exactly in the shop he was. 

“I’ll be right out,” Janus called, his voice barely audible but sounding strained. He must have been pretty far back in the shop. 

“Do... you need my help?” Logan asked tentatively. 

“I’ll be alright, Logan. Thank you. I just need to get better at my lightweight charms, I suppose.” 

“Heavy package?” 

“New shipment of books.” Janus’ voice was getting louder. 

“The deilveryperson doesn’t automatically put a lightweight charm on heavy packages?” 

“Not if you’re buying from a non-magic source.” 

“Non-magic sources sell magic resources? That doesn’t seem very safe for you all. Or for some of the more curious non-magic folk on those sources.” 

“Well, the seller of these types of things usually makes the buyer undergo some kind of background check.” 

“To see if you have a magic criminal history?” 

“Sometimes.” 

“Can I ask what kind of background check you went under to get-” Janus came into the front of his shop, then, and he groaned lightly as he lifted the box up onto the counter. The box was taller than it was wide. If Janus’ arms hadn’t sunk so low from the weight of carrying it – like Logan assumed he’d started out – the box would have obstructed Janus’ vision, and he would’ve had to go through the shop based off of his spatial memory (or echolocation, if that was a thing he could do). “How many books are in there?” 

“A whole series.” 

“Would you like my help putting them on the shelf? I need to grab a few more books for myself, anyway.” 

“I don’t actually. These are for you.” If the box weren’t so heavy, Janus would have pushed it closer to Logan. 

“You ordered me a whole new series of books?” Janus nodded. “You must be getting tired of me loaning all your books all the time,” Logan muttered, as if it should have been obvious to him. 

“What? No,” Janus was quick to assure him, having heard him. “I thought you might like starting your own collection of magic books. You’ve read all these before, anyway, but you might like reading them again. Plus, the previous owner might have left annotations that I couldn’t in my own copies.” 

“You bought me a whole series of books?” 

“I can afford it.” 

“But it’s not my birthday.” 

“No, it’s not.” 

“So then, why...?” 

“Like I said, I thought you might like starting your own collection.” 

“It sounds enjoyable, yes. I don’t know where I’ll put these in my dorm, for now, though. I can’t exactly leave them out in the open.” 

“No, I suppose you can’t. But still, these are yours. I can keep them here, if you think it would be too much of an inconvenience for you to take them home.” 

“How much did these cost you?” 

“Not important. Would you like to take these home? I could call Vir- You could call _Roman_ , and he could help you take these home and conjure you a place to keep them.” 

“I’ll think about it. After all, I wasn’t planning on leaving here so soon. Coffee?” Logan held the cup out towards Janus. He swirled the contents so Janus could get a good whiff. The snake-boy's nose crinkled, his tongue poking out of his mouth. 

“It’s not black...” Janus mused, contemplating the new puzzle in front of him. “Smells kind of sweet, but not cinnamon-y or nutmeg-y.” His brows furrowed. His tongue poked further out of his mouth. Logan held out the cup closer to Janus. Janus’ tongue suddenly slipped back into his mouth, and he stepped away from the cup of coffee as if it had offended him. “How did you get a peppermint coffee in April?” 

“I provided the peppermint extract and a hefty tip.” 

“Don’t coffee places usually use flavored syrups?” 

“I wouldn’t know. He didn’t say. He was mostly glad to receive the tip. I think I’ve scared that poor barista too much for him to question me anymore.” 

“Try not to get yourself banned from the coffee shop for inconveniencing the poor boy, will you? I’d miss your company here.” 

“I’d still find some way to sneak in. It would be like a puzzle or a sleuthing mission.” Janus smiled fondly, rolling his eyes. 

“What would you like to do while you’re here?” 

“You’re not busy with anything?” 

“Not currently. The shipment was my biggest worry.” Logan stepped back behind the counter. 

“I still can’t believe you bought me a whole book series. That must have been expensive.” 

“I don’t mind it.” Still, Logan couldn’t help but feel a little bad. Mostly, he was curious as to why Janus got it for him. It wasn’t his birthday. He couldn’t think of any significant events in April that would warrant a gift – especially not one so expensive. He couldn’t detect lies like Janus seemed to be able to – though maybe he was just _that_ oblivious to social cues – but it still seemed like Janus had neglected to mention something or was _avoiding_ mentioning something. 

Logan supposed he’d figure it out in time. 

*** 

Logan had decided to take all the books home. He’d had Roman come in and help him take them home. Then, he’d had Roman help him find a place to put them. 

Roman conjured him a bookshelf in the back corner of the closet, something that seemed to drain Roman’s energy almost entirely, as Patton was quick to feed him sugary foods and settle him in Patton’s bed in his room. Logan wanted to apologize, but both Patton and a very exhausted Roman insisted it was fine, that he didn’t know, that Roman had wanted to do it for his friend and didn’t mind. 

Understandably, because of his new collection of books, Logan wasn’t visiting Janus’ shop as often as he might have liked. He would be so caught up in re-reading one of the books that he’d make it to the coffeeshop which housed Janus’ shop, just to sit down at one of the tables with whatever coffee he’d ordered that he’d meant for Janus to try to identify and never end up slipping through the back door, too immersed in his reading. 

Janus had been told Logan was up there, so he could grant permission for Logan to come down. The baristas (especially the poor one who always seemed to get stuck with Logan’s more insane orders) knew Logan’s face and knew that Janus always welcomed him. So, they’d tell Janus he was there, even if Logan didn’t go down right away. But they didn’t tell Logan he’d been granted permission, because of course, Logan _knew_ he had been. 

After about a week and a half of not seeing Logan in his shop, Janus began to worry. He began to wonder if, even despite the fact that he knew Logan must have liked the books, if he’d gone too far by buying the whole set for Logan and gifting them to him for no other reason than “I thought you might enjoy it.” 

_Did Logan understand his true intentions with the gift (did Roman or Patton accidentally slip up and tell him?), so now Logan, not reciprocating his feelings, felt like it would be awkward to be around Janus?_

Janus had been about ready to close up his shop early and call Patton (vehemently denying his sadness at the thought of Logan not reciprocating his feelings, when Patton asked what was wrong), when Logan walked down into the shop. At least, Janus hoped it was Logan. 

Janus rushed out from the back of the shop, tongue poking out of his mouth and nose scrunching to hopefully detect the coffee smell that meant that Logan had finally come to visit him. And Janus was _really_ glad to ~~see~~ smell that it _was_ Logan, but he tried to play it cool. He tried to act like he hadn’t texted Logan every other day since five days ago, asking him if everything was alright and if he’d be coming by soon, only to not get an answer (just a little checkmark by his message that meant Logan had seen it and not bothered to reply). 

“Hey,” Janus said simply, if a bit winded, sliding behind the counter at the front of the shop. “Everything alright?” 

“My apologies for not stopping by sooner,” Logan responded. “I was re-reading the series you bought for me, and the wonder of it must have caused me to lose track of time.” 

“That’s alright. You have no obligation to stop by, despite my pestering you.” 

“I didn’t feel you were pestering me. You sounded worried about my well-being, as any friend would be.” _Ouch_. “But I finally finished the series.” 

“So you’re here to pick up more books.” It wasn’t a question. 

“I am. But also to spend some time in your company, if you’ll have me. I know it’s been a while.” 

“Have you been neglecting to spend time with Patton and Roman, as well?” 

“They managed to pull me away from the- from _my_ \- books and lure me into spending the day with them at the promise of coffee and more non-magic books.” Janus nodded. “I could leave, if you’d like. I’m sure Patton would like to see me out of my room again.” 

“You’ve been leaving your room for classes, haven’t you?” Janus realized he still hadn’t actually answered Logan’s question. “You know I don’t mind your company.” 

“I have been, yes,” Logan responded to Janus’ question, as Janus continued, “I actually have something for you.” Logan’s brow raised in curiosity. 

“More books?” Logan asked. 

“No,” Janus said. “Well, actually, yes. Kind of. You’ll see. Come with me.” Logan did as Janus asked, slipping behind the counter and following Janus to the back of the shop. First, they stopped at the bookshelf, where Logan carefully selected the next few books he would read, Janus watching him fondly. Next, they slipped into Janus’ office, where a box wrapped in purple and navy blue, sparkly-star-speckled wrapping paper sat front and center. 

“It’s still not my birthday,” Logan said, confused. “Why did you wrap this one?” 

“It’s a gift for you. This time, I had the time to wrap it. I hope you like the wrapping paper. It reminded me of you.” Janus might have been rambling. He flushed, avoiding Logan’s gaze. Logan, of course, thought it was endearing. 

“I enjoy it very much. I hate to have to destroy it.” 

“Would you like to open it now?” Janus hoped he’d say yes. He wanted to see Logan open this box. He wanted to see Logan’s reaction to the gift. 

“Would you like me to?” 

“It’s up to you, what you want, Logan. I’m fine either way.” Logan sensed that Janus might have been lying, that he might have actually had a preference. 

“I’ll open it now.” Logan lifted the box from the desk. This one was significantly lighter than the previous. 

Logan followed Janus into the even further back room. Logan set the box on the table. He stood before it, while Janus took a seat. 

“Do you have a blade of some sort?” Logan asked. 

“I have... a pocketknife,” Janus responded, pulling it off the belt-loop of his jeans and setting it on the table next to the box. “And a sword.” Janus pulled the sword out of what seemed to be thin air. But Logan was sure it had been hiding under the table, as Janus didn’t seem drained after pulling it out. Logan was sure Janus might not have been able to conjure effectively without his wand or without a specific chant. He was also sure that Janus would be drained by such an act in a more extreme manner than Roman had been by conjuring the bookshelf for Logan. 

“I’ll take the pocketknife, thanks.” Logan couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

“Your loss,” Janus replied, tucking the sword away, as Logan picked up the pocketknife and began carefully removing the wrapping paper and the tape from the box. Finally, Logan pulled open the box. Janus watched as he lifted each item out of the box. 

“More books?” Logan asked. He read the title of each book and set it aside, until he’d gotten to the very last book in the box. 

“Piano music books.” Janus’ hand rubbed at the back of his neck, and he avoided Logan’s eyes. “I didn’t know which ones you already owned, but I thought you might like to expand your music repertoire.” 

“How much did this cost you?” 

“Doesn’t matter.” _He’d said this last time, too_ , Logan remembered. 

“Why did you get them for me?” 

“Like I said, I thought you might like to expand your music repertoire.” Again, this answer was similar to the last time Logan had asked this question when Janus had bought him a gift. It made Logan a bit more suspicious of something going on. 

_But what reason would Janus have to buy him gifts? Were the gifts significant in some way? Did they mean something? Did what kind of gifts they were matter to figuring out their meaning?_

“I appreciate both gifts,” Logan assured Janus. “I just don’t wish for you to spend so much of your money on me.” 

“I don’t mind it.” Janus had also said _this_ , last time. “I hope I’ll get to hear you play one of the many pieces in these books, someday.” 

“Of course you will.” Logan’s tone was fond. If he could have, Janus would have melted into a gay pile of goo. “You’ll be the first one to.” Janus felt even more special. He began to think that maybe there was hope for him and Logan, after all. 

*** 

Janus' final gift for Logan was the one he worried most about the reception of. After all, the other gifts could have signified purely platonic intentions – even though Janus knew Logan was suspicious of his motivations for purchasing the gifts. Janus, himself, didn’t know where Logan stood when it came to the gifts. Of course he liked them, but _did he understand what they meant_? 

Janus knew that his final gift for Logan would shut down any thoughts of “purely platonic” the other gifts had conjured. It was a gift with romantic connotations, and Janus was extremely worried that Logan might pick up on that and reject him. 

Janus didn’t know when Logan would come in again. He was sure it would be within the next day or two. He didn’t think Logan would come in today. It would be too soon after he got his new books. 

So, Janus did the only thing he could think of to do when he was nervous: close his shop up early (as a precaution), shutting off all the lights and retreating into his office (for which he closed the door and kept the light on), and call his peppy twin brother for a pick-me-up. 

Patton’s answer came after the fourth ring, and Janus immediately worried that he’d caught Patton at a bad time. Maybe he’d been doing... _things_ with Roman. Or maybe he was enjoying an afternoon with Logan. Or the three of them were all hanging out together, and he was intruding... 

“What’s up, J.J.?” Patton asked his brother, as if already able to tell something was up. Well, obviously something was. Janus didn’t usually call his brother. They weren’t as close as they were when they were children. They’d grown since then. 

“Absolutely _nothing_ is the matter, Patton,” Janus responded, in the tone that they both knew meant he was lying. “I’m totally _not_ worried about giving Logan the final gift when he stops by.” Janus heard some shifting from Patton’s end of the phone call, along with some muffled speaking. 

“Everything is going exactly as according to plan, don’t you worry, Hiss-ter,” Roman said, bestowing upon Janus another snake-themed nickname. “You give him the final gift once he stops by again, and everything will continue to go according to plan.” 

“Is there more to the plan than that?” When Roman gave his answer, it sounded as if Patton had given one of his own. 

“He realizes that you love him, of course,” Roman responded, as if that was obvious. Meanwhile, from Patton, Janus swore he heard the phrase, “romantic dinner.” Roman instantly made shushing noises at Patton. 

“Romantic dinner?” Janus asked. 

“Patton!” Roman whisper-yelled. It sounded muffled to Janus, so he guessed that Roman must have covered the microphone with his hand. 

“I’m sorry,” Patton responded, whining. “I didn’t mean to say anything. It just slipped out. What do we do?” 

“We don’t tell him anything else about it.” 

“But he asked us about it.” 

“We can tell him that Logan is helping us plan one.” 

“But we’re the one planning it for him and J-” 

“Patton!” 

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” 

“It’s alright, Pattoncake.” Roman gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You’ve just got to get better at keeping secrets is all. And hey, maybe he didn’t hear anything. I’m covering the mic, after all.” 

“Oh, no, I heard,” Janus said, his voice sounding deadpan, like he was unimpressed with their inability to keep a secret. “So, Logan’s planning a romantic dinner for us, huh?” 

“Patton, don’t hang up the phone!” Roman whisper-yelled, as Patton’s hand had moved to do so. Roman knew he’d have to do damage control. If Janus ruined the dinner, Logan would get nervous and flub his confession. The dinner needed to go smoothly, but he knew he couldn’t be there to ensure that. So he had to assuage Janus of his worries and convince him not to mess it up. Besides, Roman realized, knowing that Logan reciprocated his feelings would calm Janus’ nerves about giving Logan the last gift, just as he’d called in hopes that Patton would help with. 

“You can’t tell him you know,” Roman told Janus firmly, finally removing his hand from the microphone so Janus could hear his voice loud and clear. “Both of you enlisted my help, and I’m not about to let either plan fall through.” He sounded fierce. If he were Remus, Janus would worry about a threat to his life and his organs. (Probably something along the lines of “I’ll reach down your throat and pull out your spine so your body crumbles like an accordion” or “You’ll suddenly find yourself without a kidney, but it’s not like you were using both, anyway.”) 

“If you do anything to ruin our plans for him, I’ll flay you as you scream bloody murder like music to my ears until you’ve finally passed out from the blood loss,” Roman threatened. Patton gagged at the thought. Janus swore he heard Patton leave the room. Janus, too, was disturbed by the thought. Perhaps he should have been used to it because of Remus’ own nature, but this seemed too extreme even for him. 

_Was Patton secretly dating a future serial killer? Or was it just that Roman read too many books?_

“Understand?” Roman asked. Janus must have been silent for too long. 

“I can definitely _not_ ruin a plan I know nothing about,” Janus snarked back. 

“I'm serious, Janus.” 

“So am I.” This wasn’t sarcastic. 

“I’m not telling you what the plan is. All you need to do is give our resident teacher the flowers the next time you see him. Sunflowers, remember.” 

“Which mean _what_ , exactly?” 

“Not important.” 

“I’m _pretty_ sure it is!” 

“And when he requests to make you dinner, you let him,” Roman continued, brushing over Janus’ complaint. “You don’t even try to help. You let him lead the evening. You don’t do anything except enjoy the meal and spend time with him as you usually would.” 

“What’s he going to do?” 

“Other than make you dinner, you mean? You want to know what makes it romantic?” Janus nodded before he realized Roman couldn’t see it. He hummed his agreement. “That’s for me to know and you to find out. Goodbye~!” Roman sang the last word, and the phone hung up with a click. Janus huffed. 

Of course, Janus would give Logan the flowers the next time he stopped by. He’d have to bite his tongue to prevent himself from asking about the dinner, especially once Logan proposed it: homemade pasta made by Logan, eaten in the even-further-back room of Janus’ shop, just like they’d done one other time before. 

Janus wondered if he’d be allowed to decorate the room a bit. But at the same time, he didn’t want to risk it and see if Roman would actually make good on his Remus-type threat. 

So, all Janus could do was wait and wonder how the night would go down. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** implied physical abuse, implied domestic abuse

Finally, the night of the dinner arrived. Logan arrived at Janus’ shop that afternoon carrying his backpack – as he usually did, to exchange the few books he’d finished reading for a few more – and a clothing bag. Janus didn’t have to wonder what was in the clothing bag. He had a clothing bag of his own hanging up in the shop’s restroom. 

Janus and Logan walked to the back of the shop, first stopping by the bookshelf. Logan took a while to make a decision, despite the large dent he’d put in Janus’ collection.

Their final stop was Janus’ office, which housed the mini-kitchen where Logan could prepare the meal. Janus figured he would finish up his work at his desk while Logan worked in the kitchen. So, Janus went to his laptop, which sat among the various papers scattered on the surface of his work desk. 

Logan, in the kitchen, crouched down before his backpack and pulled out several items. Firstly, a plain black apron, folded neatly. He raised an arm to set the apron on the counter, to put on once he stood up again. Next, a mini-fridge of his own. 

Logan had proposed the idea of bringing it as a precaution, not knowing if Janus would have everything he required to make the meal he had in mind. Roman was quick to agree, Patton was quick to call Logan a smart cookie (as he was eating a chocolate chip cookie, courtesy of Roman’s stop at the coffeeshop before heading to his boyfriend and best friend’s dorm room, at the time), and the former was quick to offer to conjure Logan a mini-fridge. 

Logan told him that that wouldn’t be necessary, as he had one in his room. Patton made a small complaint that he hadn’t known about it, but Logan told the couple that he wasn’t actually using it for anything. He’d thought to bring it when he first moved in, just in case they ended up needing it for the dorm, but they had a pretty large fridge in the kitchen. Now, though, he had a use for it. 

Roman was quick to cast a couple charms on Logan’s backpack, knowing he would bring it to Janus’ shop when he went there for the dinner. First, he used a charm to make the interior of the bag bigger, without physically making the bag larger. Secondly, he cast the lightweight charm that Logan was used to having on his backpack but that he would definitely need if he planned to carry his schoolbooks, Janus’ magic books, and a mini-fridge to a few classes then during the walk to the coffee shop which housed Janus’ shop. 

In Janus’ shop, Logan pushed the minifridge back against one of the counters. Still crouched on the floor, he scanned the nearby walls for an outlet. He found one relatively quickly, and had to push the mini-fridge in that direction so he could reach the outlet. He plugged it in and powered it on. His items would need to cool before he could use some of them. He wouldn’t be able to start cooking yet. 

So, Logan stood again and grabbed his apron. He put it over his head and tied it around his waist. Next, he walked over to Janus’ desk, keeping his distance since he knew he’d have to interrupt Janus’ work to speak with him and he didn’t want Janus to lash out and hurt him. 

Janus hadn’t ever hurt him before, but there was a first time for everything. Sometimes, the people you cared about hurt you without thinking. Sometimes they did it _while_ thinking, Logan knew. 

He trusted Janus, but he was still a little wary. People were unpredictable. He didn’t want to get hurt. 

“Janus,” Logan spoke up, ignoring how his voice shook, as he took a step further back from Janus’ desk. 

“Is everything alright, Logan?” Janus asked. His concern sounded genuine. He didn’t look up from his work with a murderous twinkle in his eye at being disturbed. 

“I just wanted to let you know that I wouldn’t be able to start dinner for a few hours, so I was going to take my homework into the back room and work on it.” 

“You don't need to ask for my permission. You are free to do as you wish.” His voice was gentle. “I know you’re respectful of people’s boundaries and privacy, so I’d have no reason to be upset with you wandering off on your own and doing your own thing. I don’t need to keep you by my side at all times. We’re friends-” it hurt Janus a bit to say the word, and he couldn't wait to attach the prefix ‘boy-’ to the front of it, “-and I don’t plan on losing that friendship by being controlling.” 

“Thank you, Janus.” Logan stepped away from Janus’ desk. He grabbed his backpack from the kitchen and walked down the hallway to the even-further-back room. Once inside the room, he set himself up at the large table. He set the alarm on his phone for a few hours’ time, so he would know when to return to the kitchen. Then, he got started on his homework. 

*** 

Logan’s alarm went off while he was finishing a chapter in one of his new magic books. He reached out blindly to turn it off, not wanting to tear his eyes away from the page and the final couple paragraphs. The effort was futile, however. He was lucky that it didn’t take him long to read a couple paragraphs. He was lucky that he could stick his bookmark in the book and shut it then turn off the annoying alarm before he became annoyed enough to feel inclined to throw his phone at a wall. 

He gathered his belongings, organized them, then tucked them all away into his backpack. He stood up from the table, stretching his arms over his head. His legs tingled, but he was quick to walk around and get them used to supporting his weight again. 

He walked out of the even-further-back room and back into Janus’ office, where the kitchen awaited his personal magic touch. Janus appeared to still be working, though he looked up briefly when Logan entered the room. 

Logan went over to his mini-fridge, sat on the floor, and opened it. He set a light hand on each of the contents, determining that they were cool enough to be used. He was lucky none of the ingredients had spoiled. But he’d had Roman to thank for that, too. The dramatic boy had cast a preservation charm on the inside of the fridge, at Logan’s request, since the fridge would be in the logical boy’s backpack all day and the Florida spring weather fell either to a rainy extreme or a sweltering extreme. 

Logan pulled out most of the ingredients and got to work. He was quickly “in the zone,” comfortable in the silence of the room and used to the routine of cooking pasta. Alongside the pasta, he prepared garlic bread and a fresh salad (which simply required cutting up a bunch of vegetables, tossing them in a large bowl, and hoping not to drop any pieces on Janus’ clean floor), and had tiramisu (which he had never made before, but pasta was an Italian dish, and he felt inclined to keep with the theme) that he’d made during lunch in his mini-fridge. 

Janus couldn’t help but be distracted from his work at the sight of Logan working in the kitchen like he owned the place, extremely familiar with where everything was and how everything worked. Not to mention, Logan began to hum a melody to himself. Janus didn’t want to remark on it, sure Logan would stop if he did, but he found that he loved the sound. He found that it became increasingly hard to focus on his work. But it wasn’t like he was doing anything extremely important, anyway. 

So, Janus shut his laptop and tucked it in his laptop bag. He stood from his desk stretching his limbs with a small snakelike hiss that pierced the calm atmosphere of Logan’s humming but didn't stop the humming. It must have gone unnoticed by the boy. 

Janus slipped out of his office and into the restroom. He closed and locked the door behind him. Then, he approached the clothing bag, which he’d hung on one of the towel hooks on the wall. Janus unzipped the bag, then carefully pulled out each item of his outfit. 

First, he changed into the black dress pants. He had to pull off his sneakers to do so, but that was fine, because Roman had forced him to bring along a pair of dress shoes to change into. 

Next, Janus changed into his yellow button-up shirt. He buttoned each button slowly, not wanting to mess it up and have to start all over. Then, he tucked the bottom of the shirt into his pants, smoothing out any wrinkles in the shirt and making sure the shirt didn’t bulge in the pants. 

Lastly, he stared at his reflection in the mirror with concentration as he attempted to tie the only necktie he owned (a gift from his mother a few years ago: black with golden sparkles) around his neck. He looked up an online tutorial and tried to follow the steps, but it was complex. He scrolled to the next option, and that, too, was difficult. He didn’t want to even try to attempt the third option. 

He sighed, resigned, and stopped trying. He shut off his phone, tucked it in the back pocket of his pants, and pulled on his black suit jacket. He grabbed his tie and left the restroom. 

He returned to his office, where Logan appeared to be waiting around. The food must have been cooking. He must have finished his preparations. 

Logan looked up when Janus re-entered the room, and he would half-heartedly deny that the sight of Janus in a suit caused his gay heart to skip a beat. The two boys walked towards each other and met somewhere in the middle of the office. 

“You look nice,” Logan said, grateful that his tongue wasn't as tied as it felt like it was, as Janus innocently asked, “Help me?” holding out the necktie in Logan’s direction. Logan smiled fondly. 

“Of course,” Logan responded. He took the tie. “This looks nice.” 

“It’s the only one I own,” Janus responded, unsure if Logan’s compliment was genuine. 

“Stay still.” Janus did. “Let me know if this is too tight,” Logan said, as he tied and tightened the necktie. 

“You’re good,” Janus told Logan, when Logan had stopped pulling. “This feels weird, but not tight.” 

“I appreciate the effort you made to dress up.” 

“Roman threatened me to make sure this night was perfect. Of course, with you spearheading the night, how couldn’t it be?” Logan smiled again. 

“I should go change.” 

“You know where the restroom is. Do I need to watch over anything?” 

“Just the pasta. You’ll have to test a noodle when the timer on my phone goes off. You’ll know when it does. It’ll be annoying.” Janus couldn’t help but smile. 

The boys walked past each other to opposite ends of the office. Janus stood in front of the stove like a sentinel on duty, and Logan slipped out of the office with his clothing bag. 

Logan had a much easier time changing into his suit and tie. His dress pants and suit jacket were matching shades of navy blue, his button-up shirt was white, and his necktie was indigo and black striped. He used the mirror to tie the necktie around his neck and fix his hair. Finally, he put on the apron again, not wanting to stain his suit while he finished with the last bit of cooking. 

Logan changed quickly, not just because of how used to wearing such an outfit he was, but because there might have been a part of him that wanted to be back in the office with an extra-handsome Janus (and another part that might have worried about the state of all his food under Janus’ eye, just in case Janus was actually as bad in the kitchen as Patton was). 

Logan stepped back into Janus’ office, where nothing was on fire, thank goodness. Janus walked past him with the pasta pot and the strainer, so he could go drain the noodles. Logan checked on the state of his tomato sauce. He also rotated the garlic bread in the oven and pulled the tiramisu out of his mini-fridge. 

Janus returned with the noodles, drained, a short time later. He set the pot on the stove and put the drainer in one of the kitchen cupboards, before stepping out of the kitchen again. Logan sensed that Janus might have been afraid to be in his way. 

“Did Roman threaten you to stay out of the kitchen, too?” Logan asked, meaning it to be a joke. 

“He said I shouldn’t help you unless you asked,” Janus responded. Though, really, it was a half-truth. Roman had told him loud and clear not to help. Not at all. 

“What will you do for the last few minutes the bread must finish baking?” 

“I could set the table?” 

“Alright. Do you have a tablecloth? It would make the atmosphere more ro- um... nicer.” Logan had almost slipped up, almost revealed the romantic intentions behind the dinner, and his grammar had suffered. He hoped Janus didn’t remark on it. He hoped he hadn’t spoiled the plan that he and Roman had worked so hard on. He hoped he could settle his nerves before he presented his speech. 

Logan, lost in his worries, didn’t hear Janus’ affirmative answer, nor did he hear Janus step away. Logan stirred the tomato sauce and meat into the noodles. He let it all heat up a bit as he checked on the tiramisu. It seemed to be cooled enough. Though Logan couldn’t be too sure. 

An annoying beeping that Logan knew was the timer for the bread interrupted his thoughts on the matter. He decided that the tiramisu would have to be good enough. 

Logan shut off the oven and the stove. He pulled the bread out of the oven and set it on the stove. He pulled the salad and some shredded cheese out of his mini-fridge. He would leave it up to Janus how much cheese he wanted on his salad and his pasta. 

Janus stepped back into his office a few minutes later, announcing that he’d set up the back room. He must have come back in to grab plates and utensils while Logan had been lost in thought. The two boys grabbed the various food items on the kitchen counter and the stove and walked out of the room like a procession of servants to a royal’s dining room, where a feast was being held. 

The even-further-back-room looked shiny clean - cleaner than ealirer, though Logan knew Janus couldn’t have possibly cleaned it (by hand, anyway) while Logan was busy cooking. A black tablecloth covered the large table. Several red, plastic placemats were laid on top of the table. Janus set the food items in his hands down on the placemats arranged in a row opposite the two placemats that were set on the table directly in front of the two chairs, which had a white, porcelain plate, a spoon, a fork, a knife, and a clear (empty) wineglass atop each. Logan followed suit. 

The pasta sat front and center. To the left of the pasta was the shredded cheese, and to the left of the shredded cheese was the salad. To the right of the pasta was the garlic bread, and to the right of the garlic bread was the tiramisu, with a knife laid on top for slicing. 

Logan, a bit nervously, pulled out Janus’ chair for him. And not wanting to ruin the evening and the romantic mood Logan had strived for, like Roman had said not to, Janus allowed it. Then, Logan took his seat beside Janus. He tried to stop the shaking of his hands before he reached out for the pasta pot. 

Janus beat him to it, however. He served himself some pasta then passed the pot to Logan. Logan served himself pasta as Janus served himself some salad. Logan put the pot back in its place on the table before taking the salad from Janus. They continued passing the food this way until they had both plated the pasta, bread, salad, and tiramisu, and had sprinkled their food with their preferred amount of cheese. 

Logan didn’t take a bite until Janus did, too worried about what the other boy would think. But Janus let out a happy sound upon taking a bite of the tiramisu, and Logan knew he enjoyed it. So, Logan took the first bite of pasta. As soon as he swallowed, he spoke, beating Janus – who, of course, was all prepared to praise Logan’s cooking – to the punch. 

“I believe I forgot to bring us something to drink,” Logan said, looking at their empty wineglasses. 

“If you’re not against underaged drinking, I have a wine bottle that Remus smuggled out of a convenience store a couple years ago,” Janus responded, the hint of a smile quirking his lip at the memory of Remus running out of the convenience store cradling a suspiciously-bottle-shaped bulge under his jacket and someone screaming at him to come back in Spanish, and Remus screaming back, in perfect Spanish, that he didn’t understand Spanish, as he knocked his shoulder against Janus’ as he ran past, non-verbally telling him to run, too. 

“As long as we are responsible about it, I suppose.” 

“Wine won’t get you drunk, unless you’re a lightweight and you have more than a couple glasses. Besides, I wouldn’t want to get you drunk on our first date.” _Shit. Roman was going to kill him._ Logan choked on a bite of garlic bread. 

“What?” he asked, throat hoarse, after a fair bit of coughing. 

“Nothing!” Janus responded immediately, high-tailing it out of the room. It probably wasn’t his wisest course of action, since it left Logan alone with his thoughts. And Logan had to wonder if he’d been that obvious about his intentions. And yet, Janus didn’t seem opposed to the idea of this dinner being their first date. And, Janus had been buying him gifts recently. And especially those sunflowers had been screaming romantic intentions. 

So maybe Janus liked him back. Maybe Logan could present his speech when Janus came back, before Janus poured the wine and Logan took a sip. That way, Janus would know he was genuine. 

_Did Logan have the box of chocolates he’d bought for Janus weeks ago?_ No, that’s right. Patton had eaten it on accident, and neither roommate had bothered to replace it. Roman had said it didn’t matter much, that the dinner would be enough. The chocolate hadn’t been in Logan’s original imagined scenario, anyway. 

Janus stepped back into the even-further-back room with a bottle of red wine. “It might not be good because it’s cheap, but it’ll fit the mood better than water,” Janus told Logan as he approached the table. 

“About the mood...” Logan responded. He looked nervous, that much was obvious to Janus, as he pulled a folded-up sheet of notebook paper out of the pocket of his button-up shirt. Janus took a seat, setting the wine between their plates but back a bit, so they didn’t knock it down on accident. Janus could sense that this sheet of notebook paper was important. 

As Logan unfolded it, Janus noticed black handwriting. Lots of it. Then, it was unfolded, and Janus took care to listen as Logan began speaking: “I’m not a very emotional person. You know that I deny the existence of my emotions because of events in my past that have had an adverse effect on my mental health. And yet, you, Patton, and Roman somehow broke past the metaphorical walls I had built up to shield myself from anyone else who might hurt me. I know that I don’t have to worry about any of you ever hurting me. I’ve always- no, hold on. That’s crossed out.” Logan flushed, a hand raising to rub at the back of his neck. “I knew I should have just re-written this on a new sheet of paper,” he mumbled to himself. 

“Anyway,” Logan continued, avoiding Janus’ eyes, “somehow you got even farther past my metaphorical defenses. And that’s quite a feat, considering I haven’t known you very long at all. But you were kind and considerate. You taught me so many things about magic. You fueled my curiosity with literature. You never told me to shut up when I asked you questions. 

“You respected my boundaries. You respected our friendship. And I think you, too, let me in farther than you’ve let in most people. At least considering how long we’ve known each other. 

“I don’t mean to bring up any sore subjects, but I suppose I must mention Virgil, your ex-lover. I don’t suppose you’ve allowed him to see you in your snake form. I assume that’s something you’ve only ever let Remus see. And then, you let me see it, with maybe only a little bit of hesitation on your part. 

“But I didn’t leave you then, and you didn’t leave me when you found out about my past. We’ve seen each other at our worst, and we’re still here.” Logan and Janus, both, would deny the tears pricking their eyes. Logan flipped the paper over before continuing reading. “And I’m glad that I have people like that. I’m glad that I have _you_. 

“Patton and Roman will always be only my friends. They’re a little too peppy for me to see a romantic future with. I feel we’d be incompatible in that way. Not to mention the copious amounts of PDA they engage in. 

“But you and I? You’re smart and sarcastic, and it’s endearing. Your snake features are endearing. Your face looks incomplete without the scales, but that doesn’t mean I find it any less aesthetically pleasing. 

“We’re a lot alike. I don’t see you as the type to engage in PDA – especially if I’m not comfortable with it. I know I can trust you not to do anything I don’t express my comfort with. 

“I suppose what I mean to say-” Logan mumbled this next part, before raising his voice back to its normal volume to complete the statement, “(I can’t believe I wrote that. But I suppose it was meant to be for authenticity’s sake.) -is that at some point, my feelings for you evolved past platonic. They became romantic in nature. 

“And this would be where I say the Big Three Words, but I feel that those words shouldn’t be rushed. I feel that they shouldn’t be a part of some big declaration. It’s the little things, I think, that show it, and the words are only needed to serve as extra persuasion of that fact. 

“Of course, if you feel inclined to say them, I will not mind it, and I hope you know I share the sentiment. But that’s assuming you feel the same and I’m not reading into everything wrong, projecting all my feelings onto you. But if I am, I understand. And we can forget this ever happened. 

“And now, I suppose I ask for your response.” 

When Logan was finished speaking, he folded the paper back up and tucked it away, still adamantly avoiding Janus’ eyes, just in case he’d been wrong that Janus might reciprocate his feelings. He seemed saddened by the possibility. 

“Logan, look at me,” Janus said, his voice soft. Janus would have reached out to take Logan’s hand, to comfort him, but he didn’t want to scare Logan off. Logan slowly raised his head to meet Janus’ eyes. He didn’t see any hatred reflected in them. He could have sworn it was love swirling in them, but another part of him insisted that he was just projecting his own feelings onto Janus again. 

“I don’t hate you,” Janus told Logan, not a hint of a lie in his tone. “I could never hate you.” 

“But you don’t share my feelings, right?” Logan asked, already feeling his heart metaphorically crumbling in his chest. 

“That couldn’t be farther from the truth. What did you think all those gifts meant?” 

“You said you thought I might like them.” 

“Yes, but there was no special occasion, as you pointed out. And the sunflowers had some meaning that I think was supposed to make it obvious, but Roman wouldn’t tell me what it was.” 

“Roman helped you plan the gifts?” 

“I wanted to ask you to be my boyfriend, but you’d already come to him for help, and he didn’t want me ruining the plan he was making with you.” 

“Well, I’d obviously like to be your boyfriend.” 

“Weren't _you_ supposed to ask me that?” 

“I don’t think it matters who asks who, as long as the other says yes.” 

“Well, I’d say yes if you asked.” 

“And I'd say yes if _you_ asked. But who’s going to ask?” Logan’s tone for his question changed to one of innocent curiosity. Janus couldn’t help but smile fondly. 

“I think we took care of that part already, Logan.” Janus’ voice was gentle. 

“Oh. Good. I’m glad.” 

“As am I.” 

*** 

After the dinner, Janus and Logan closed up the shop together. As they did, they had a discussion about the details of their relationship. But most importantly, Janus asked if Patton was expecting Logan to return to their dorm room to tell him (and probably Roman, too) everything about the dinner date. 

Janus didn’t intend to take Logan home and sleep with him, at least not in a sexual sense, but he figured that if Logan went home with him, they could continue to discuss the details of their relationship. And this way, they would be together when they told the story of what happened. They could call Patton and tell him (and probably Roman, too). They could call Remus and tell him, because Remus would probably be glad to know. Logan didn’t ask about them telling Virgil. 

Logan told Janus that Patton might have preferred to hear what happened from the both of them, and he’d rather do it over the phone than have Janus dragged into their dorm room for a face-to-face interrogation about his intentions. (Logan knew that even though Janus was Patton’s brother, Patton was relentless with anyone he cared about. He threatened physical violence, even if everyone knew he was too much of a puffball to actually go through with it. Rather, they assumed he was.) 

So, finally, Janus decided to let Logan drive him to his (Janus's) apartment. After all, Logan had been the one to plan the date, so he could take Janus home like they were high-schoolers and they’d just finished their first date at some cheap location. 

When they stepped into Janus’ apartment, nothing felt different from the last time that they were there together. This time, however, Logan knew his way to Janus’ bedroom and to the bathroom. He led the way to the former, Janus following behind and asking if Logan was alright. 

“We’re just going into your room to call Patton,” Logan responded. “We won’t do anything either of us aren’t comfortable with, despite our new title of ‘boyfriends.’” 

“And if we fall asleep next to each other again?” Janus asked, sitting down on the bed next to Logan. Logan pulled out his cell phone, figuring he should be the one to make the call. That way, he could tell Patton where he was, so Patton wouldn’t worry. 

“If we fall asleep next to each other, I know your inevitable curling up around me wouldn’t have happened with any sort of malicious intent. I would not be ashamed by it, nor should you be.” Janus let out a relieved sigh. Logan gave him a soft smile, which he was quick to return. “Ready?” Logan asked, finger hovering over the call button for Patton’s contact. 

“Ready.” Logan hit the button. 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** Remus-typical antics, sexual innuendo/humor, threats of murder, past toxic relationship, swearing, mentions of sex, this chapter is basically all dialogue, body dismemberment?
> 
> There will be a summary in the end notes, just in case you need to skip this content for self-care reasons.

“Logan!” Patton answered almost immediately, sounding excited to hear from Logan. “How’d the dinner go?” 

“Put him on speaker, babe?” Roman asked. Patton giggled. Logan swore he heard the light smacking sound of a kiss. 

“You’re on speaker, Lo.” Logan put Patton and Roman on speaker, as well, so Janus could hear the conversation. 

“As are you,” Logan responded. “I’m with Janus at his apartment.” 

“Ooh~” Roman sang, his tone teasing. Logan flushed at the implication. 

“Logan and I have more class than either of you,” Janus retorted. “We would not be so crass as to engage in intercourse after the first date.” 

“So it didn’t go well?” 

“Shut up, Roman,” Logan and Janus said at the same time. Roman let out an offended gasp at being ganged up against. 

“Alright, so it went well! You're welcome~” Roman sang the final phrase, to the tune of the song of the same name from Disney’s Moana. 

“How about you let them tell us about it, sweetheart?” Patton’s gentle voice said. Roman nodded, pouting, though only Patton could see this. 

“Janus, would you like to do the honors?” Logan asked. 

“It was your plan,” Janus responded. This drew another offended gasp from Roman. “I think you should be the one to tell it.” And so, Logan did. Janus made his own contributions now and then, mentioning how certain moments made him feel. Patton cooed and aww’d at certain moments. 

“So, you didn't kiss, then?” Roman asked, once the new couple had finished telling the story. 

“Roman!” Patton scolded lightly. 

“They know I’m just kidding. And _I_ know they wouldn’t have kissed each other with garlic breath.” 

“Only if Logan found it endearing,” Janus responded genuinely. 

“I’d always find you endearing,” Logan replied, not even minding that he sounded like a sap. Roman fake gagged. 

“Get a room, you two,” the dramatic boy said. 

“We have a room. Mine,” Janus said. Roman began fake gagging again. 

“Perhaps we should let you go,” Patton said, raising his voice to be heard over Roman’s fake gagging. “We’re happy for you both. There’s no pressure for you to be all couple-y now. Take things at your own pace. But Janus?” 

“Yes, Patton?” Janus responded, sensing Patton’s seriousness. 

“If you hurt my best friend, I’ll let Roman go through with that-” he shuddered, “ _horrifying_ threat.” Janus knew the one. His lips turned down at the memory. Logan was sure he didn’t want to ask. “And Logan?” 

“Yes, Patton?” Logan asked. 

“If you hurt my brother... Um... Sweetheart, can you stop fake gagging for a minute to think up a threat for if Logan hurts Janus?” Roman stopped. The line was silent as Roman thought. 

“Logan, if you hurt Janus, your murder will end up on one of those true crime podcasts,” Roman said. _Is that where Roman got those horrifying threat ideas?_ “Your death will be shrouded in mystery. It’s such a mystery that I can’t tell you _how_ you die, just that I’ll make sure Remus feeds your body to the crocodiles or the lions or the pigs or something at the zoo he works at, leaving behind only your pinky finger, just like Peter Pettigrew from _Harry Potter_.” 

“Got it?” Patton asked the new couple, his voice serious still. 

“Got it,” the new couple responded in unison. 

“Good.” Patton’s voice returned to its usual chipper tone. “Enjoy the rest of your night! I’ll see you tomorrow, Lo.” The line clicked off. 

*** 

“Should we call Remus tonight, as well?” Logan asked, after removing his phone from his ear. 

“We probably should,” Janus replied, “before Roman has the chance to. Remus might prefer to hear it from us – or at least me – anyway.” Logan nodded in understanding. Janus pulled out his phone. “Ready?” 

“Ready.” Janus hit the call button for Remus’ contact. 

“J-anus!” Remus cheered upon picking up almost immediately. Janus huffed, scrubbing the smooth side of his face with his hand. 

“I’ve told you not to call me that,” Janus said, sounding more tired than irritated. 

“And _I’ve_ told you that I’m an unstoppable force. Not even _you_ can reign me in, J-anus, though the magic gods certainly know you’ve tried.” 

“I didn’t call to debate with you about your questionable morals.” 

“Aww, but I _love_ when you scold me, Double D.” Janus could hear Remus’s pout. 

“I’ve _also_ told you not to call me that. And will you _please_ keep your comments PG? I’m with Logan.” 

“ _Ooh_ , you’re with _Logan_?” Remus asked, his voice sing-song, sounding similar to Roman’s except a little more grating. As if it was _meant_ to be annoying. “You _finally_ gathered the courage to ask to suck his dick?” 

“ _Remus_ ,” Janus scolded. Remus’s pout intensified, though Janus couldn’t see it. Janus could imagine it, though. 

“Oh, _alright_ ,” Remus said, resigned, still pouting. “Tell me how your stupid first date went.” And so, they did. Once again, Logan led the story (prompting Remus to cry out, “Hi, Nerd!” upon hearing his voice), and Janus made his own occasional contributions. Remus made a few more crude comments that both Logan and Janus refused to acknowledge. 

“Glad to know my twin brother isn’t so useless,” Remus said, once Logan and Janus had finished telling the story. 

“You think Roman is useless?” Logan asked in response. 

“Oh, I’m sure he thinks I am, so it’s only fair.” Remus didn’t seem upset by that. 

“Is this typical of biological sibling relationships?” 

“If you’re siblings with Remus, I’m sure,” Janus responded, before Remus had the chance to say anything. 

“Because Pappy Patty is too kind to call you useless to your face. But I bet he’s secretly a freak in the sheets. I should ask Ro.” Logan’s nose crinkled, his lips turning down in disgust. Janus seemed relatively unaffected. 

“I’m not going to address any of that. It would do no good to entertain your inappropriate ideas.” 

“So you’re saying I should text Ro and ask?” 

“I’m saying no such thing.” 

“You know I can’t tell your sarcasm and lies from your truths.” That was a lie, and they all knew it. 

“Remus,” Janus warned. 

“You’re no fun.” Remus was pouting again. “Logan, will you _pretty please_ pull that stick out of Janny’s ass when you finally decide you’re gonna fuck ‘im?” 

“Good _bye_ , Remus,” Janus said pointedly, hanging up the phone. “I’m sorry about him,” Janus told Logan. Logan shrugged. He didn’t appreciate Remus’ kind of humor – the sexual humor to that extent – but he knew it was just a part of Remus’ character and that Remus wouldn’t be changing that about himself any time soon. Or ever. And if Logan was going to be dating Janus (and hopefully spending the rest of his life with him – though that was a discussion for a _much_ later date), he would need to get used to the antics of Janus’s best friend. 

“Has he made you too uncomfortable to sleep in my bed tonight?” Janus asked softly. 

“I think I’ll be okay,” Logan replied after a moment of thinking it over. 

“And you’ll let me know at any point if it’s not?” 

“Unless you’re already asleep, in which case, I will move to the living room for you to find me the next morning. I wouldn’t leave your apartment without telling you.” 

“That’s good to know.” Janus and Logan shared soft smiles. “Goodnight, Logan.” Janus yawned. 

“We need to change into pajamas, first.” Logan’s voice was kind. Janus yawned again, laying back on his bed. He reached out to put his phone on the nightstand. “You’re still wearing your suit and tie.” Janus pulled off the tie (with difficulty, as he hadn't been the one to tie it and so, he didn't know how to _un_ tie it) and toed off his shoes. He crawled under the multiple blankets on his bed. “Janus.” Logan’s voice was a little firmer. Janus’ only response was another yawn. 

“Oh, alright,” Logan conceded, rolling his eyes fondly. He would let Janus sleep in his suit and tie. Logan, however, would do no such thing. 

He grabbed a pair of sweatpants and one of Janus’ many T-shirts from the closet. He put both his and Janus’s shoes in the closet. He put both of their ties, along with his suit jacket in Janus’ dirty clothes (though, realistically, he knew he’d have to pull his suit jacket out the next morning and have it washed at the dry cleaner’s). 

Logan left the room to change into the pajamas in the bathroom. Janus would deny that he pouted when Logan stepped out of the room, but Logan was quick to return. He was quick to crawl under the blankets next to Janus, trying to ignore how suffocatingly hot it felt. He wanted to be available for Janus to curl up around, and that, unfortunately, involved, crawling under all the layers of blankets just as Janus had. 

Janus was fighting to keep his eyes open. He gave Logan another soft smile, this one much sleepier. He yawned again, and Logan couldn’t help but smile then yawn, too. 

“Goodnight, Janus,” Logan whispered. If he were more affectionate, he might have used a petname or kissed the top of Janus’ head, free of his signature hat as it was. 

“G’night,” Janus responded. 

*** 

Virgil didn’t learn about the new couple until much later. After all, he only spoke to them when it came to business matters. Hence why he was walking down the steps into Janus’s shop one afternoon, a couple weeks after the new couple’s first date. 

Logan was sitting on top of the front counter, criss-cross-applesauce, a new magic book open in his lap. Most of his focus was on reading and learning, but he was also partly keeping watch for customers, so he could alert Janus, who was working back in his office. 

Logan noticed Virgil over the top of his glasses, but he looked mostly like a blurred, black figure that got much clearer when he was finally about ten feet away from Logan. “Jan, you have a customer!” Logan called back, using the nickname accidentally, bookmarking the page and closing the book. He climbed off the counter and got a look at the customer for the first time. 

“Hello, Virgil,” Logan said calmly. He met Virgil’s eyes. He couldn’t recognize the emotion in them, but it didn’t look good. 

“I’ll be right out, love!” Janus called back. The petname was only mostly an accident. Logan had started it, calling him a nickname, after all. Janus, usually averse to nicknames, didn’t seem to mind it from Logan. Just like Logan, who felt a warmth in his chest upon hearing the petname from Janus, knew he didn’t mind it. 

Janus came to the front of his shop, standing next to Logan. Their fingers brushed against each other’s behind the cover provided by the counter. It was a minimal amount of contact, but it was one of the new boundaries Logan had established for Janus. 

Now that Janus was his boyfriend, Logan was more comfortable with more forms of physical affection from him. Hugs were still only to be given if Janus asked and Logan felt up for them. The couple held hands in private but brushed fingers in public, almost like small show of support and definitely a small show of their love. 

“What can I do for you today, Virgil?” Janus asked professionally. He met Virgil’s eyes, and he could read the emotion in them. Virgil wasn’t bothering to hide from Janus the anguish he felt. Janus figured it must have been the nickname that prompted it. 

Virgil had been the one to originally call him that nickname, after all. Janus had liked it when they were dating. He’d given Virgil his own selection of nicknames and petnames. 

Janus knew that Virgil was feeling heartbreak all over again. Because, yes, Janus had told Virgil that he liked Logan, but it was a different thing to see it right in front of him. Virgil could deny it if he never saw Janus and Logan together, acting couple-y. He could pretend that he still had a chance with Janus, that he could go back to Janus and maybe they’d be able to get it right that time, if he didn’t have to acknowledge that Janus was with Logan now. 

But there would be no going back to him now. Their relationship had to remain strictly professional. 

“I planned on bulking up on supplies, since final exams are in a few weeks,” Virgil responded. The air was fraught with tension and unspoken words. 

Virgil set a sheet of notebook paper on the counter: a list of the items he wanted. Logan scooped up the list and retreated to the back of the shop. 

“Oh, so you let Logan into your stores now?” Virgil asked, his tone biting, as soon as he was sure Logan was out of earshot. “Just because you’ve let him into your pants?” 

“Virgil, you are here on business,” Janus responded calmly. “Please act professionally.” 

“I could be acting a lot more _un_ professional.” 

“You could also refrain from remarking on my relationship and speaking ill about my boyfriend behind his back.” 

“I’ve said nothing against him.” 

“You’ve made an inappropriate remark, and I ask that you refrain from this in the future.” 

“Or what? You’ll stop conducting business with me? _I’m_ the reason your business took off.” 

“But you’re not the only reason I’m _still_ in business. The same could not be said about you, however.” 

“You think _you’re_ the reason my potion-making business is doing well?” 

“I _know_ I am.” 

“You’re full of shit. I don’t have to prove myself to you.” Virgil’s tone was defensive. His hands were clenched in fists at his side. Janus noticed this. 

“But I think you’re itching to,” Janus responded, choosing not to take the high road any longer and instead adding a bite to his tone. “ _I_ think you’re itching to punch me in my pretty face, because I’m no longer able to be at your beck and call when you need a fuck to block out your self-destructive thoughts.” Virgil glared at Janus, staying silent. 

“What?” Janus taunted. “Cat got your tongue?” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Virgil hissed in response. 

“Ooh, so vicious.” Janus’ tone was mocking. 

“Step out from behind that counter and see what I’ll do to you, pretty boy,” Virgil threatened. 

“Aww, you think I’m pretty.” Virgil hissed like a snake. Or a cat. 

Janus hissed back, louder. Then, he stepped out from behind the counter. 

The two boys stood a few feet apart, staring each other down. The room was tense and silent. Even if one listened closely, they would not be able to hear Logan gathering Virgil’s requested materials. Nor could Logan hear the confrontation happening at the front of his boyfriend’s shop. 

“Do you just plan on staring?” Janus asked, inspecting his nails. “It’s not like I don’t have _anything_ better to do.” Virgil didn’t move. “The longer you wait, the higher the chance of Logan coming out here to see you punch his boyfriend.” Janus's voice was sing-song, taunting.

“I should just hex you,” Virgil retorted. 

“Not a curse? My, my, Virgil, I’m _so_ scared.” Janus placed a hand to his heart, as if he would feel it pounding beneath his gloved palm. 

“Logan, your boyfriend’s being a dick!” Virgil called back to Logan. This drew an offended gasp from Janus. 

“Janus, please act professionally,” Logan called back. “I should be out in a minute, but you should know better than to let personal matters get in the way of your professionalism.” Virgil was smirking, and Janus shot him a glare that could kill. 

Another stare-down commenced. This stare-down wasn’t broken until Logan emerged from the back of the shop, carrying a large box. He set it on the counter, and the force of the impact caused a noise that pulled the glaring boys out of their murderous rages. Janus stepped away from Virgil to stand back on the opposite side of the counter. When his boyfriend’s fingers brushed his, he felt instantly calmer. 

“My apologies about Janus’s behavior,” Logan said, as if _he_ was the one who owned the business and Janus was just a paid employee. “Everything is in here except for the pixie dust.” Logan had never imagined that that would be a sentence he would say aloud. Pixie dust was such a Disney concept, even displayed in Peter Pan. And yet, it was one of many ingredients on Virgil’s list. “I don’t know how the shipping of that works, but I know that if we’ve ever had any here, we’re out at the moment.” 

“What was that you said about your business thriving?” Virgil taunted Janus. 

“Lacking an item would imply that I’ve sold out of it. Which is good for my business,” Janus replied. His brows furrowed. He seemed a bit confused, but Virgil knew it could’ve just been for show. 

“But not having it now is _terrible_ business. I suppose I’ll just have to go somewhere else.” Virgil said this last part with a sigh, as if he hated the idea of going to another supplier. He supposed that that was true, even if things might be a lot more strained between him and Janus now. 

“We both know your anxiety would never allow you to do that. I’ll text you when it gets here.” 

“Thanks, Jan.” 

“Don't call me that.” 

“Oh, so nicknames really _are_ reserved for the people you’re fucking.” 

“Please just take your stuff, pay, and leave, Virgil. Haven’t you yelled at me enough?” 

“I’ve hardly yelled at you. You _know_ what I’m like when I yell.” Virgil winked, to make clear the implication behind his words. 

“Neither of you are acting professionally,” Logan said. “Virgil, may we please complete this transaction so Janus can order the pixie dust – assuming he hasn’t already?” This was Janus’ cue to leave, he knew. Logan would complete the transaction, Janus would go place the order, and the tension would hopefully leave the atmosphere. So, Janus walked away. 

“I understand your past with Janus,” Logan began, “and I do not mind it. But I’d like to think that the both of you are old enough to conduct business matters professionally, despite how you feel about my relationship with Janus.” 

“It’s nothing against you,” Virgil said, passing Logan a stack of bills. “It’s everything against Janus. And a bit against myself.” 

“I don’t need to know the specifics. Janus told me enough so that I can understand why you must be hurting.” Logan handed Virgil some of the bills back. “I don’t mean for my presence to make things worse for you. I don’t mean to seem like I’ve slotted myself into your old place with ease. Janus and I had quite the journey to get here, and part of his journey involved getting over you. Now, you must work on getting over him.” 

“For someone who seems emotionless, that was pretty profound.” Virgil took the box from the counter. 

“Thanks. I think. But please, Virgil, take those words to heart. And if it might help, remember this, too: ‘fucking’ someone - as you would put it – to repress your emotions isn’t a healthy coping mechanism. A good partner isn’t someone who allows you to do that. A good partner listens to your problems, no matter how trivial you think they may seem, and helps you however they can – even if that means forcing you to speak with a therapist.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Good luck, Virgil.” Virgil hummed. He turned away from Logan and the counter. He knew the smart boy’s words would be weighing on his mind for a while. 

Virgil put the box into his bag before beginning the ascent out of Janus’ shop. Logan didn’t watch him leave, instead returning to his book, but he could feel the release of tension in the atmosphere that meant that Virgil had gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter picks up where the previous left off. Janus and Logan are at Janus's apartment, and they've called Patton (and Roman, who's at Patton and Logan's dorm _with_ Patton). Patton and Roman are, naturally, delighted to hear that their plans worked and that the new couple is happy. Of course, Patton, with Roman's help, threatens murder for the both of them, should they happen to hurt one another. 
> 
> But with that all said and done with, Remus is next on their call list. So, Janus calls him. And Remus is delighted, as well, to hear that Logan and Janus have gotten together - though he says it in a cruder way than Roman and Patton had. Logan tries not to feel uncomfortable with it or let it spoil the fact that he and Janus may end up sharing a bed again that night (again, not for sexual reasons), because that's just the way Remus is. The chapter concludes with the two boys falling asleep next to one another, and to refute the summary from Chapter 10, it _is_ pretty gay to fall asleep next to someone. Especially when that someone is one's new boyfriend.
> 
> Virgil doesn't find out until a couple weeks after the fact, when he comes to Janus's shop to stock up on potions supplies in preparation for the influx of orders he predicts he'll have with finals season coming up. Naturally, he's crushed, because the boy he loves is no longer available to him in the same way he's always been when he needs him. But the crushing feeling only worsens - and puts Virgil on the harsh offensive - when Logan dips into the back of the shop to grab the items Virgil listed that he needed, when Virgil is left alone with the boy who shattered his heart and can no longer "repair" it with sex. Things almost get violent, but Virgil calls to Logan, and Logan reprimands them both for their unprofessional behavior. He finishes the transaction with Virgil and leaves him with one last piece of advice (though this will be a paraphrase): "A relationship where someone 'fucks' away your problems isn't a healthy one. A healthy partner would encourage you to seek therapy to confront your feelings, instead of concealing them with sex. And it will take you time to get over Janus, but it was also a hell of a journey for Janus and I to get here. You can do this, but it'll take time."


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** food, a single swear word, I remember crying a little when I wrote this because of the nostalgia

The end of the semester came quicker than any of the group expected. One day, Logan was studying for his final exams, and the next, he was in his dorm room, packing his belongings. 

Logan pulled his clothes out of his closet and folded them. He pulled all his books off of the bookshelf in his closet (which Roman was coming over later to make disappear) and put them in the bottom of one of his suitcases. He pulled his bedsheets off the bed and remade it with the generic ones the college provided (a shade of white that looked almost yellow from countless students failing to wash them properly with blue stripes that were extremely faded), smoothing out all the wrinkles. He pulled his mini-fridge out of the closet and set it with the rest of his belongings, next to his – no, _not_ his anymore – bed. Then, he left the room. 

He went into the living room, to see if there was anything out there that he needed to pack. He looked at the photo Patton had hung above the TV at some point: a Polaroid of all of them in front of the _Partners_ statue on their first day at Disney World that spring. He remembered Patton taking the picture, but he didn’t remember Patton using a Polaroid camera. He thought about asking Patton if he could keep it to remember them all by – as if they wouldn’t all be coming back and seeing each other next fall. 

Next, he went into the kitchen. He pulled open the cupboards and drawers. He pulled out the cooking utensils he had brought with him. He pulled all of the jars of Crofter out, glad he had gotten to them before either Patton or Roman. He took his treasure and his belongings to his room to pack them, too. 

He went to the bathroom last, knocking on the door just in case Patton was inside. He listened carefully for an answer, but there wasn’t one. So, he figured he was safe to open the door. 

He opened it cautiously, as if he was in a large mansion, trying to hide from a serial killer who could be anywhere. But the room was empty. 

Logan stepped inside the room. He opened the cupboards and drawers to pull out his belongings. He pulled his dark blue towel off of one of the many hooks on the back of the bathroom door. He pulled his shower items off of the metal wire rack that Patton had brought from home and installed almost as soon as he’d stepped into the dorm that fall (insisting that Logan, who had anticipated on carrying his towel, toiletries, and a change of clothes into the bathroom every time he needed to take a shower, use it). 

Logan took all of these items and returned to his room, packing them in his suitcases, as well. His suitcases were heavy and bulging, barely closing despite Logan’s meticulous organization, but Roman was going to fix that when he came by later, as well. 

Logan was sure that he’d packed everything. But there were still hours before Roman was going to come over. There were still hours before Patton would drive Logan to Janus’ shop. (Patton had insisted on it, insisting that Logan shouldn’t walk all the way there with his suitcases, even if Roman _was_ going to make them lighter.) 

He figured he should go check in on Patton. He knew Patton was the sentimental type. Logan had started packing as soon as he’d woken up, giving him a few hours’ head-start compared to Patton, but he also knew that Patton would look at each item and reminisce before he put it away. 

Logan went through a mental checklist of items he knew he had brought, items he knew he had packed, and rooms he knew he had checked. Nothing seemed to be amiss, and so, he decided he had finished. He left the room that he could no longer call his – since all of his belongings were packed up – and walked across the hall to Patton’s. He knocked on the door. 

“Come in,” Patton said after a moment. Logan was sure his knock had pulled Patton from a memory. Logan eased open the door. 

He was greeted with Patton sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by clothes, books, notebooks, stuffed animals, and Polaroid photos. As if Patton was the eye of the storm that had ravaged his room. 

“Do you need help?” Logan asked kindly. Patton’s only answer was to pat the spot next to him, inviting Logan to sit. Logan did. Patton showed him what he was looking at. 

“I hadn’t realized you’d taken a picture of this,” Logan mused, referring to the photo of Logan cooking in the kitchen. He didn’t know when it was taken, but it looked like it had been pretty early on in their stay in the dorm. 

“I’ve taken a lot of pictures,” Patton responded, pressing the photo into Logan’s hand, non-verbally insisting that he keep it. 

“You don’t want it?” 

“It’s a picture of you, Lo. You automatically get dibs.” 

“What about group photos?” Logan asked, picking up another Polaroid from the mess on the floor to find a picture of him, Patton, and Roman all made up, from their first visit to Maisey and Bill’s boutique. 

“I’ve made copies, of course. You can have that one. My album of copied photos should be around here somewhere. We can sort through those when I find it.” 

“I’ll begin folding your clothes for you to put away.” 

“That’s sweet of you, Lo. I suppose that means I should gather up all my books, huh?” 

“That would be wise. You cannot afford to continue reminiscing.” 

“What time is it?” 

“You still have a few hours before Roman is supposed to get here, but you need to be packed by then.” 

“Of course. Thank you for helping me. You must have gotten done pretty quickly, huh?” 

“I figured you might need someone to keep you on track. I’ve been awake for hours.” Logan picked up a salmon-pink T-shirt from the floor and folded it. 

The two boys worked in silence. Logan grabbed items off of the floor and folded them. He organized the folded items into piles by type of clothing. He folded Patton’s socks and even Patton’s briefs, seeing no need to be shy about it, since they’d both done each other’s laundry during their stay in the dorm. 

Logan was done with this fairly quickly, moving around Patton and around the room to gather up the items. He took the piles he’d made and set them on Patton’s bed – for which the nostalgic boy had yet to change the sheets. When he looked at Patton to check on his progress, he found Patton about halfway through a large, square book. 

Logan took a seat next to Patton to look at the book over his shoulder. It appeared Patton had found the book of Polaroid photo copies. There were many more photos that Logan hadn’t known Patton had taken: Logan, Patton, and Roman at the diner for their “not-so-secret” Santa. Roman and Patton in the snow. (Logan knew they’d gone to a ski resort that winter. It was their "couple’s retreat,” though they’d invited Logan. He’d declined, because he didn’t like the feeling of snow on his skin and in his hair. Nor had he felt that he would have liked shadowing them the whole time.) 

Logan sitting on the counter in Janus’ shop. A shadowy silhouette of Roman and Patton kissing each other in front of the window of their hotel room from the spring break trip to Disney World, fireworks going off behind them. A blurry photo of Remus and Roman that Logan knew was only blurry because Remus must have done something to Roman and Roman must have reacted as the camera snapped the photo. Logan, Janus, Roman, and Patton in front of the town’s movie theater, on their first double date. The most recent picture, Logan had thought, since that had been right before finals, but he was wrong. 

The last picture in the book was of Logan and Janus both sitting on the counter of Janus’ shop, holding hands between them and their noses brushing, someone’s middle finger (Remus’, Logan knew, as he was the only one who would use the profane gesture) raised at them. Logan remembered the moment that had occurred only a few days before. Mostly, he remembered how tranquil it had been. He hadn’t realized Remus had been there, at first. And he might have kissed Janus – or let Janus kiss him – if Remus hadn’t yelled, “Is that fuckin’ allowed?” his middle finger raised and cell phone camera pointing at them. Logan was sure Remus had taken another photo of Logan startling, pulling his hands out of Janus’ grasp, and almost falling off the edge of the counter. 

Patton closed the book. He knew Logan had been looking through it, too. 

“I pulled out your copies to keep," Patton told Logan softly, not wanting to shatter the tranquil atmosphere that had settled over the room upon their reminiscing. He lightly pressed the small stack of small photos into Logan’s hands. “You can go put these away. I pinky promise I’ll actually start packing now.” 

“I expect you to have most of your books organized into piles by the time I return,” Logan responded, sounding like a parent. Patton nodded his acknowledgement. Logan slipped out of the room, carefully stepping over the items still laid out on the floor. 

Logan went to his room. He sat on the bed to look through all the photos Patton had given him. Most of them, he’d seen as Patton flipped through the pages and pulled them out. But there were a few from the beginning that he missed: the microwave completely engulfed by fire and Logan bursting into the kitchen wielding the fire extinguisher he’d had to obtain from their RA. Logan in his unicorn onesie, sleeping on the couch, because he’d taken advantage of Patton spending Halloween out trick-or-treating with Roman to watch a documentary and let loose without judgement. He didn’t know Patton had caught him. Patton had never said anything. 

Logan finished looking through all the photos, and he tucked them into a small pocket of one of his suitcases. Then, he left the room again to return to Patton’s. 

The room was significantly cleaner upon his return. Patton had kept to his promise of being productive, and there were a few piles of books against the wall next to Patton’s closet. He was sitting on the floor looking through a notebook now, however. 

Logan took the seat next to Patton. “What are you looking at?” he whispered, not wanting to startle Patton. Patton jumped slightly, anyway. 

“My history notebook from first semester," Patton responded. He pointed to a drawing in one of the margins: a couple of stick figures in crowns, holding a large, chocolate chip cookie between them. “Roman drew this. There’s other margins in here filled with our back-and-forth notes to each other.” 

“You were passing notes to each other in class?” 

“Not passing notes. Just writing little notes in my margins when the teacher wasn’t looking." 

“But you should have been paying attention." 

“We still passed. Especially thanks to you." Logan fought back a small smile. 

“Do you need help with anything else in here, or should I bring in your belongings from the bathroom?” 

“You can go ahead and bring in more of my belongings.” Logan nodded. He stood up then left the room. He went into the bathroom and gathered what he knew for certain was Patton’s: the dark gray towel hanging on the bathroom door, the bubblegum toothpaste Logan refused to use, the only toothbrush now in the bathroom, the baby blue Loofah hanging from the shower rack, the shower rack itself. While he was in there, Logan replaced the nearly-gone roll of toilet paper with a new one. 

He returned to Patton’s room then set the items among the few items remaining on the floor. “I’m going to give the house a thorough clean,” Logan informed Patton. “I’m going to start with the bathroom, since all of our belongings should be cleared from it now. I’ll bring in your items from each room before I clean it. I’ll let you know when Roman gets here.” Patton was looking through another notebook. He hummed noncommittally. 

Logan left the room again and started a deep clean of the bathroom. 

*** 

Logan had left the living room for last, and he was dusting off the TV when the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it!” Logan called out to Patton, who he hoped was actually putting items into his suitcases now. 

Of course, at the door was Roman, who was quick to step inside once Logan opened the door. “Patton’s in his room,” Logan stated. “He's still packing. Go to my room, vanish the bookshelf in my closet, and make the magical adjustments to my suitcases, before stopping by his room. I have a few more places to dust in here, but then I’ll be operating the vacuum.” Roman nodded his understanding. He walked to Logan’s room, sneaking a glance through the open door of Patton’s bedroom before slipping inside Logan’s. 

Logan resumed his dusting. As soon as that was done, he began vacuuming. He noticed Roman leave his room at some point and slip into Patton’s. He hoped Roman wouldn’t distract Patton. He would have to check on them as soon as he had finished vacuuming. 

Soon enough, Logan finished the vacuuming, which meant he'd cleaned the whole dorm. And he _did_ feel a little winded from his efforts. He stopped by the kitchen to grab his water bottle from the fridge (he'd filled it with tap water before he cleaned the kitchen and stuck it in the fridge so it would be cold when he finished everything. He knew his exhaustion wouldn’t let him leave it behind). Then, drinking water and relishing the cool feeling hitting his throat, he returned to Patton’s room. 

Everything was put away. Logan assumed Roman had already performed his charms on Patton’s bags, as well, as Patton and Roman were sitting next to each other on the floor. They had Patton's photo album in their laps – Logan assumed Patton was grabbing Roman his copies of the photos – but their lips were connected. Logan cleared his throat. The couple pulled away from each other, smiling, looking a little dazed. 

“I've completed my cleaning and I thought I should check in on the both of you,” Logan began. “Patton, once you and Roman are finished looking through the photo album, please go through the rooms of the dorm and check that I didn’t forget to bring you any of your belongings.” Patton nodded. “I’ll grab us all lunch from the cafeteria, so text me what you'd like. You don't need to pay me back. By the time I come back, it should be about time for us to head down to Janus' shop.” 

“You're only in such a rush, because you want to see your _boyfriend_ ,” Roman teased, his voice sing-song. 

“So what if I do?” Logan retorted, sounding a hint defensive. Roman raised his hands in surrender. “I’ll be back soon. If you two go back to kissing and forget to text me your orders, I'll bring you both back a salad. One _single_ salad to share between the two of you.” Roman gasped, placing a hand on his heart. 

“You wouldn't dare.” 

“Neglect to text me, and you'll see.” Logan turned and walked out of the room, wearing a satisfied smirk. He knew that at any minute, his phone would ding with texts from them, listing their orders. 

*** 

Patton, Roman, and Logan saved their lunch until they arrived at Janus’s shop, as Logan had also grabbed Janus lunch. So, the four of them set up in the even-further back room – Janus bringing a couple chairs from his office for Roman and Patton - and ate lunch together. Patton and Roman probably considered it the four's second double date. 

They didn’t really speak, instead enjoying the company of each other and their significant others, and their food. Roman and Patton used one hand to eat their meals, the other hand holding each other’s. (Roman had requested a strawberry milkshake - even though he knew the college’s cafeteria didn't carry that and so had to settle for a strawberry banana smoothie – and a slice of pepperoni pizza. Patton requested a chocolate chip cookie, a carton of milk, and a slice of cheese pizza – as if he anticipated that he’d take a bite of Roman’s and Roman would take a bite of his. Janus hadn’t requested anything, but Logan knew what he liked about as well as Logan knew what he, himself, liked.) 

Janus and Logan weren’t so open with their PDA. Their ankles crossed each other’s under the table, but that was it. They would avoid looking at Patton and Roman when they were acting Extra™ (cue the appearance of a vocab card). 

Once the four had finished lunch and Patton and Roman left (as they were going to be spending the weekend with Patton’s family before they went on a summer “couple’s retreat”), Logan and Janus were able to be a bit more free with their PDA. They held hands as they walked to the bookshelf so Logan could drop off the most recent set of books. This time, he didn’t exchange them, since he wouldn’t be as close to the college during the summer and he didn’t have a car to drive. 

Janus insisted that Logan could get a few more and Janus would bring them back when he returned to town, since Janus was going to spend the weekend with Remy and Emile, so Emile could officially meet Janus as Logan’s boyfriend and give him whatever empty threat/older-step-brother talk he saw fit. (None of them tried to think about the last time Remy and Janus had been in close proximity of each other.)

But Logan insisted he was fine without. And so, still holding hands, the couple walked around the shop to close it up. Janus had announced his vacation to his customers this time and had already recorded the message for his voicemail box. 

And finally, together, they climbed into Janus’ car to begin the hour-and-fifteen-minute drive to Emile and Remy’s house. 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** sexual innuendo, implied domestic abuse, implied/referenced physical abuse, mention of skinning alive

Even though Janus had been the one driving to Remy and Emile’s house, Logan was the one who reached the front door first, upon their arrival, and knocked on it, as if he was giving Janus time to prepare himself for whatever confrontation with Remy was to come. However, the door didn’t open until Janus was standing behind Logan, his short frame hidden by Logan’s tall one (he hoped). 

Emile was the one to answer the door, as if Remy was hiding somewhere in the house just like Janus seemed to be hiding behind Logan. “Logan!” Emile said, sounding chipper. “Do you how do?” Emile stepped aside to let them in, while Logan puzzled over the peculiar greeting like it was the first - and not the fifty-millionth - time he’d heard it. “Hello, Janus,” Emile greeted the smaller boy, his tone calmer. 

“Hello, Emile,” Janus responded. He nudged Logan, knowing Emile was still waiting for an answer from him. 

“I’m good,” Logan responded. “Mine and Janus’s bags are out in his car.” 

“I’ll go get them,” Janus immediately volunteered. _Was he avoiding running into Remy inside the house or was he avoiding the inevitable talk with Emile? Was it both? Or was it neither?_ Logan didn’t have the chance to ask. Janus had already slipped out of the cozy pink house, leaving the door unlocked behind him. 

Logan sat on the couch, and Emile sat in his armchair. “How are you, Emile?” Logan asked. 

“I’m just glad you’re staying here over the summer,” Emile responded, his tone back to chipper. 

“Well, I have to go home to dad at some point. And my mom.” 

“Well, you can stay here with me or at home with dad for as long as you need before you go see your mom. And if your step-father tries to get you to stay over there longer than a day or a weekend or however long you’ve arranged to visit your mom, you let me know and I’ll send Remy to pick you up. He can be a little scary.” Emile said this last sentence as a conspiratorial whisper. 

“Gossiping about me with your cousin already, Em?” Remy asked, stepping out of the shadows of the hallway. As always, he wore his sunglasses even though he was inside. He had a mug of coffee, even though it was late afternoon. 

“I would never say anything bad about you, sweetheart.” Remy walked up to Emile’s chair and rested his hand on top of Emile’s. 

“I know, babe. Hello, Logan.” Logan waved. “Isn’t your pretty boy supposed to be-?” Janus walked into the door then. He froze, Logan’s suitcases at his side. He bit his lip to hold back in the hiss that threatened to leave him. Remy appeared to be having a similar reaction. 

“Do you remember where Logan’s room is?” Emile asked Janus, his kind voice cutting through the tension but not relaxing the snake-boy and sassy man’s postures. Janus shook his head. It was all he could do, since he was trying to keep his mouth shut. 

“He’s only been here once before,” Logan spoke for his boyfriend. “I’ll take him.” Logan stood. He led Janus by the arm past Emile and Remy, and down the hallway to his room. As he passed by Emile, he swore he heard him mutter something like, “I hope it won’t be like this the whole weekend.” 

“I’ll set up in here later,” Logan told Janus. “Go grab your stuff, then I’ll lead you to the guest room, since I’m sure you don’t remember where that is, either.” Janus shook his head again. He allowed Logan to lead him out of the room, past Remy and Emile, and to the front door of the house. Janus was quick to make his escape. 

“Remy,” Logan began, “may I ask why you and Janus react negatively to each other’s presences?” Remy seemed relaxed again, now that Janus had stepped out of the house. 

“Well, he’s a naga, right?” Remy responded. 

“He is actually cursed to be part snake. And as far as I know, there’s no counter-curse for it.” 

“Alright, but same sort of premise. Snakes are predators. So am I.” 

“What are you?” 

“This is my territory, per se,” Remy continued, brushing over Logan’s question. Logan hoped Remy would come back and answer it. “And predators don’t like when other predators intrude on their territory, even if their intentions are friendly. 

“I assume your boyfriend can sense that I’m a predator and his instincts are threatened by me, so he hisses to assert his dominance. But trust me when I say that _I’m_ the dominant one in this household.” Logan shuddered. 

“ _Thanks_. I did _not_ want to know that.” Logan’s voice was a bit strained. 

“And if he hisses at me, I have to hiss back, in my own way.” 

“I believe you are adamantly avoiding telling me what exactly you are. I have read up on different magical species this semester, courtesy of Janus’s resources. If you are worried that I’ll be frightened of you, let me assure you, I will not.” 

“It’s true,” Janus said, standing on the front porch with his own suitcases. He didn’t seem tense when he wasn’t past the threshold. So he knew that his whole thing with Remy must have involved territory. But Janus didn't want Remy’s “territory.” Janus didn’t pose a threat to Remy. _Why were their instincts so determined to believe otherwise?_

Well, Janus would fight them. He stepped over the threshold biting his lip again. It seemed to be a struggle for him to speak again. 

“He’s seen me in my snake form a couple times, and he hasn’t left me yet,” Janus said, his S’s sounding like hisses. Logan stood up to take Janus’ arm. 

“Emile, would you please make us a pot of tea?” Logan asked as he walked him and Janus past the therapist. “I assume you’ll want to hear about the rest of my semester.” Logan knew Emile would do as he asked. So, Logan led Janus to the guest room. “I hope this gets easier for you,” Logan told Janus softly, brushing the scales on his face. Janus shivered slightly, his lip quirking upwards. “You know where my room is, if you need me.” Janus nodded, missing Logan’s warmth as the bespectacled boy stepped away. 

Logan left the room, so both boys could unpack their belongings and settle in for the weekend ahead of them. 

*** 

Logan was the first to be finished, and he promptly answered Emile’s call of, “Tea’s ready!” by stepping into the living room, where Emile set a tea tray with four cups on the coffee table. As if Remy needed to drink tea on top of however much coffee he’d already consumed that day. 

Logan sat down on the living room couch. Janus emerged from the hallway, finished settling in the guest room, a moment later. He walked past Emile in his chair and Remy sitting on the arm of the chair and took a seat next to Logan on the couch. Their ankles crossed over each other’s. 

“So? What should we talk about first?” Emile asked the boys. “We could start with college, or we could start with-” 

“I’d appreciate it if you told myself and my boyfriend what species your husband is, so we know what we’re going to be dealing with this weekend,” Logan cut in. Immediately after, he apologized. He closed his eyes tight and tensed his body. 

“That’s alright, Logan. You’re okay here. I’m not upset with you. Look at me.” Emile’s voice was calm. Logan listened to his words and obeyed his gentle command. “I’m not going to hurt you for speaking out of turn. You are understandably concerned. You are allowed to be concerned and upset.” Logan’s body slowly relaxed. “Remy, how about you tell them,” Emile told his husband, his voice still holding that soft, gentle quality to it. 

“Vampire,” Remy said simply, pointing at himself with the hand that wasn’t now holding a teacup. Janus didn’t bother holding back his hiss this time. Remy bared his fangs with his own hiss. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way, can we make peace, babes?” Remy asked, holding his free hand out in Janus’ direction. Janus eyed it warily. 

“Only if you can assure me that no harm will come to my boyfriend under your roof,” Janus responded. Remy let out another hiss, as if meant in offense at Janus possibly implying that he was an animal. 

“He never has before. Shouldn’t you worry about yourself, snakey boy?” 

“I can defend myself.” Janus bared his own fangs when he hissed back at Remy. 

“How about no harm comes to any of the people under this roof, yeah?” Emile said, attempting to keep the peace. “Can we agree on that, you two?” Janus and Remy nodded. “I’m glad to hear that. And now that we’ve gotten that out of the way...” 

“Wait,” Logan spoke up. He’d settled a curious gaze on Remy. Yes, he’d read about vampires, but he knew there was still so much he could learn about vampire magic from an actual vampire that he wouldn’t have been able to find in Janus’ books. 

“I’ll answer your questions later, okay, kid?” Remy told Logan. “Emile’s been itching to hear about your semester.” 

“But more specifically the two of us, right?” 

“I can’t help that I’m fascinated by real life fusions.” 

“You’re not allowed to give us a ship name.” 

“Too late~” Emile sang. 

“Do I want to know?” Janus asked. The question seemed to be directed at Remy. Remy shook his head with a fond smile at his husband’s antics. 

“It’s Loceit!” Emile said anyway, happily. Logan’s brow raised. He tried to solve the puzzle. He understood where the “Lo” part of the ship name came from, but not the “Ceit” part. “Janus” didn’t have “Ceit” in it anywhere. 

“Don’t think so hard on it, kid,” Remy told Logan. “Relax.” Logan listened. 

“So, how did _Loceit_ come to be?” 

“This isn’t a couples therapy session, Emile.” 

“No, of course not. But I’m a little bit in therapist mode right now. I can’t help it. I’ve got a new fusion sitting right in front of me. I have. To know. _Everything_.” Logan sighed and relented. He began telling the tale of his and Janus’ dinner date. 

*** 

Later that evening, despite every effort he’d seemed to make to try to avoid it, Janus found himself alone with Emile and Remy. Logan had retired to his room for the night, after a long discussion in the living room with Remy about his vampire magic and his opinions on vampires in non-magic-folk media. Janus had made to follow, but Remy was quick to step into his path and hiss to stop him. Janus hissed back. 

“Calm down, please,” Emile told them both, placing his hand on his husband’s shoulder. Remy instantly relaxed. The same could not be said for Janus. “ _Relax_ , Janus.” Emile’s tone was somehow both gentle and firm. Janus's whole body was tense: he was poised to flee from this predator, if need be. “We just wish to talk to you.” 

“I already know what’s coming,” Janus responded, his S’s sounding like hisses. 

“Sit down on the couch so we can talk, Janus. It’s alright. We’ve all already agreed that no harm will come to anyone in this house this weekend.” Janus had no choice but to listen to Emile. He took his seat back on the living room couch. Emile took his seat in his armchair, and Remy took his seat on the arm of the chair. Emile and Remy looked at Janus seriously. 

“What are your intentions with Logan?” Emile asked, trying to sound like a stern parent. Janus would have laughed, if the moment weren’t so serious. Emile was as frightening as a kitten hissing and baring its claws but not posing any real threat beyond leaving a scratch that might sting for a couple minutes. Especially compared to Remy, who Janus knew could bare his fangs threateningly and mean it, despite whether or not his husband was there to keep the peace. 

“I'm dating him,” Janus responded simply, keeping his tone honest and refraining from hissing. “My intent is to marry him someday, in the distant future, if he agrees.” 

“And how do I know you won’t hurt him?” 

“You mean break his heart? Or physical abuse?” 

“Both.” 

“Well, I’m not physically abusive. You’ve seen how I’ve been careful to respect Logan’s boundaries since he laid them out for me. We haven’t kissed yet, you know. And I haven’t pressured him to. We’ve worked towards it at his pace. 

“As for not breaking his heart, I’d like to think that you, as a couple’s therapist, know that I can’t promise that. Love is unpredictable. It shows up when you don’t expect it, and it can crumble down around you when you least expect it. But if I can help it, I won’t break Logan’s heart. I don’t want to hurt him. 

“I was in an unhealthy relationship before. Logan knows about it. He knows that I was the one who was at fault, not acting as a proper boyfriend should. I hurt my ex-boyfriend and thought I was helping him. We denied that we weren’t meant to be together, and I never told him that I was starting to allow myself to have those doubts. 

“But I’ve learned through that. I don’t want to hurt Logan like that. I’ll actively try _not_ to hurt him like that. If I hurt him in some other way, that’s out of my control, but know that it was never my intention to. Know that my intention is to keep him happy, help him feel loved, and to have a future with him.” 

“And if I were to ask Remy if you were telling the truth?” Emile asked. 

“Because vampires can detect lies now?” Janus’ tone became defensive. 

“Can’t _you_ , pretty boy?” Remy retorted. “Ain’t it a predator thing to know if someone’s double-crossin’ ya?” 

“What was that accent? No, it doesn’t matter. Yes, I’m telling the truth. Yes, Remy can tell you, I’m telling the truth.” Remy nodded his agreement to the final statement. “Are we done here?” 

“You understand what the consequences are if you hurt Logan? _Especially_ physically?” 

“Other than the threat my brother and his boyfriend made about skinning me alive? No.” 

“That’s a good one,” Remy muttered. “Can we steal that one? I think a genuine snakeskin jacket would _really_ sell my aesthetic.” Janus hissed, having heard Remy’s remark. Remy hissed back, of course. 

“I think it’s a good threat, but we will _not_ make a snakeskin jacket out of Janus, even if he _does_ break Logan’s heart,” Emile said, still attempting to keep the peace between the two men. Remy huffed. 

“Thank you, Emile,” Janus said genuinely. “May I go now?” 

“You may. Just keep it PG under my roof, ya hear?” 

“We haven’t even _kissed_ yet.” 

“P.G.,” Emile repeated, emphasizing the syllables. 

“PG,” Janus repeated, deadpan. He got up from the couch and left the living room, making his way to Logan's room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm never sure about my characterizations of Remy and Emile, but I love them and their dynamic so much.


	19. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** implied/referenced physical abuse, domestic abuse, panic attack, Remus-typical antics, sexual remarks, death threat
> 
> I'll put a summary in the end notes, just in case.

Janus’ hand was gentle in Logan’s hair, easing out any tangles, the latter’s head resting on the former’s lap. They sat on the living room couch of Patton and Logan’s dorm room at the college, this their second year of attending the school. 

Roman had invited himself over, Logan insisted, when Janus, too, dropped by. Remus and Virgil were due to come soon, he also said. Patton had invited them over. 

Roman and Janus, understandably wanted as much private time with their respective boyfriends as they could get before Remus ruined the tenderness with his innuendos. Roman and Patton were in Patton’s room, the door closed. Janus and Logan didn’t want to think about what they might be doing. Instead they wanted to be focused on each other. 

Logan focused on the feeling of Janus’ gloves brushing his scalp and a few stray hairs falling into his face and tickling his forehead. Janus focused on the feeling of Logan’s cheek pressing into his thigh (once, he would have worried about Logan's head being so close to that area, worried about Logan’s comfort and any unintentional implications, but they’d had a discussion (they had many of those, all the time, about many different things), and Janus learned that Logan was pretty affectionate. Logan, if anyone brought it up, would say that one year of being around Patton had rubbed off on him) and the silkiness of Logan’s hair between his gloved fingers. 

Their serene moment was interrupted by a loud, incessant knocking on the door. It could only be Remus. And maybe he was accompanied by Virgil, who was surely wondering why Patton had invited _him_ over. 

Logan didn’t want to get up to answer the door. The dorm room would have been silent, if not for the knocking from outside piercing it, since none of those housed by the dorm room seemed eager to answer the door. And unfortunately for all of them, the door was locked and Remus would not let up on his knocking until the door had been pulled away from his fist’s range. 

It was almost like a game of wills: Who could put up with the knocking the least longest? 

Roman was surely used to it, since he’d lived with the man for his whole life. Janus may have been used to it, since he’d been friends with Remus for a few years. Patton might not have been used to it and might have disliked the loud sound, but that was only if he wasn’t so entirely focused on Roman - on whatever he was doing with Roman. And Logan? Well, he was comfortable. He was a bit stubborn. But he had to relent. 

He tried to hide his flinch as he pulled the door open, a fist barreling towards a door that was no longer there and towards Logan, now. Remus’ fist stopped inches from his face. Logan was frozen. 

“Well, Nerd?” Remus asked. Virgil was stood next to him. He could pick up on Logan’s fear. He, too, was intimately familiar with the fight, flight, or freeze response. “Are you gonna let us in?” Logan did, unsteady on his feet. He closed the door and Virgil and Remus settled down on the couch. 

Virgil sat on the arm closest to the door, farthest from Janus. Remus sat between Virgil and Janus, as if to provide a buffer. As if, even now, months after Logan and Janus had gotten together and Virgil had had to begin letting go of his feelings for Janus, Remus was playing the mediator. 

Logan returned to his place next to Janus; however, his head didn’t return to Janus’ lap. He rested his head on Janus’ shoulder. Janus gently rested his head on Logan’s. 

Roman and Patton finally emerged into the dorm room’s living room. They stood in the entryway, holding each other’s hands. They looked out at the four men on the couch. Logan had the strange feeling of the two men like parents, delivering an announcement to their children. 

Just like when Logan’s mother and stepfather had said they were getting married. And Logan couldn’t say no. He knew, then, that he would have hated the consequences if he’d cried to his mom and insisted it was too soon. 

Janus took Logan’s hand, as if sensing his inner turmoil. “Why are we here, Patton?” Janus asked for all of them. 

“Well, Roman and I had an announcement,” Patton explained, “and we wanted you all to hear it from us.” Logan tensed. 

“Even me?” Virgil asked. 

“Well, you’re our friend.” 

“We went to Disney World last spring. Beyond that, we don’t _have_ a friendship.” 

“You’re friends with our brothers.” 

“I’m friends with Remus, sure. But that still doesn’t explain why _any_ of us are here.” 

“Yeah, Padre,” Remus spoke up. “What’s this announcement?” 

“Well, Roman and I...” Logan squeezed his eyes shut. Janus rubbed circles on the back of Logan’s hand with his thumb. He knew Logan was tense and uncomfortable, but unless his condition got worse, Janus knew that Logan would have to fight through it to hear this important announcement. Janus could take him back to his apartment and cuddle with him and relieve him of the stress after. 

“We’re engaged,” Patton finally said, as if he’d drawn out the dramatic moment long enough. Roman’s dramatic flair must have been rubbing off on him. It wasn’t so unreasonable to believe. They’d been dating for a little over a year, now. 

“Don’t you think it’s a little too soon to get married?” Janus asked. Logan wanted to ask the question, but Patton’s words continued to echo in his head and he knew he didn’t have a choice in this matter. He never had a choice in this kind of matter. He just had to stand by and watch them be happy while he became miserable. 

No, _Patton and Roman weren’t like that._ Patton and Roman would make sure he was included. Logan wouldn’t be either of their best men – they had brothers for that – but he would be Janus’s plus one. He would be allowed to help with the planning. He might get to _spearhead_ the planning, since he was the most organized over all of them. 

_When had Logan’s breathing quickened? When had his heart started pounding loudly in his ears?_ And yet, it wasn’t loud enough to drown out the echo of Patton voice saying, “engaged.” As in, engaged to be _married_. 

_Married_. At nineteen years old. Not even done with college yet. 

_Married_. After one year of dating. They would move in with each other. They would leave Logan alone. Logan would lose them like he’d lost his mother to an abusive man (even if she, herself, had never been faced with his abuse). 

_Were everyone’s eyes on him? Were they wondering why he was having such a negative reaction to such positive news?_

Logan felt Janus’ hand squeezing his. A rhythm. A breathing rhythm. Logan tried to match it. His breaths were shaky. It was a while before he was composed. 

And when he was, a glass of water was held out in his direction. Patton. His eyes wide with concern, any happiness at delivering his and Roman’s news forgotten. 

“My apologies for such an extreme reaction,” Logan said, after sitting up and drinking half of the glass. “This was meant to be a happy announcement, and I’ve spoiled it.” 

“It’s not spoiled, Lo,” Patton responded, his voice chipper as always. But Logan was sure he could detect the lie. Patton _had_ to be lying. Logan looked at Janus, as if to silently ask the question. Janus nodded. Logan sighed. 

“What prompted either of you to propose?” Logan asked, his voice coming out shaky, hesitant. 

“Roman proposed.” _Of course_. “With a Ring Pop.” Patton held out his hand, on which sat a red plastic ring with a red plastic stick protruding from its center: a Ring Pop with the candy already sucked off. “It’s more of a promise ring thing. We know it’s much too soon to get married. But it’s a promise that when he proposes with a real ring, I’ll say yes. It’s a promise that we’ll get married someday. Those aren’t promises I intend to break.” 

“I was... worried... about your mental state for doing something so seemingly sudden.” 

“It’s a big decision. And we want you all to be happy with it. We’ll break off our promised engagement if any of you aren’t okay with it. Are you all okay with it? Logan?” Patton looked at the serious boy, his worry ever-present. 

“Of course I’m okay with it. I want you both to be happy. I want what is best for you. I worry about the pace you are taking your relationship, but your relationship is vastly different from mine and Janus’s.” 

“What about your reaction to my announcement?” 

“It was nothing against either of you, I assure you. But I do not wish to explain it and sour what was once a pleasant atmosphere even further.” 

“Janus, are you okay with it? Remus? Virgil?” 

“I still don’t understand why _I_ get a say,” Virgil responded. 

“You’re our friend. This decision affects you, too.” 

“I don’t think we’re close enough for me to be considered for an invite to your future wedding, much less someone who could shut it all down before it began.” 

“ _I_ think we are. So, do Roman and I have your approval?” 

“I don’t care what the fuck you do. Get married, commit a murder-” 

“-Suck each other off in this very room,” Remus contributed, as if the words were ripped from his mouth. Even he seemed disgusted by the thought of catching in brother in that kind of position. Everyone’s faces twisted in their disgust. 

“Thanks, Remus,” Roman choked out. He shook his head, as if to clear that image from his mind. “Thanks for your approval, Virgil. It means a lot to us.” 

“Whatever. Can I go now?” 

“Why? Got somewhere better to be?” Janus spoke up. 

“If I did, it wouldn’t be any of _your_ concern.” Virgil stood. Logan gripped Janus’ hand, as if to keep him in his seat, to keep him from responding to Virgil’s provocations. 

“You can go, Virgil,” Patton said pleasantly. “Thank you for stopping by.” Virgil hummed noncommittally. However, he left the dorm room as if he couldn’t get out of there quick enough. “That just leaves Remus and Janus.” 

“If you get married, does that mean Roman’ll finally move out?” Remus asked, seeming delighted at the prospect. 

“Eventually.” Patton didn’t bother fighting his smile at the idea. 

“Then I’m all for it. He’s a pain in the ass. And _not_ the good kind.” 

“ _Thanks_ ,” Roman responded sarcastically, again disgusted by Remus’ sexual imagery. 

“And Janus?” Patton asked. This was the reaction that meant the most to him. Yes, Logan was his best friend, but Janus was his _twin_. Even if he loved them both the same, he’d always valued Janus’ opinion. 

Janus leveled Roman with a steely gaze. “You understand,” Janus said slowly, tone threatening, “that if I allow this promised engagement, and you decide to call both it and your relationship off, Patton will be devastated?” Roman nodded, after a moment, realizing that Janus wanted a response. “And do you know what my obligation as Patton’s older brother-" 

“You're not older!” Roman objected. 

“Oh.” Janus acted shocked, placing a hand over his mouth dramatically, as if he'd revealed some big secret. “You mean… he didn't tell you?” 

“You're twins. You're the same age.” 

“You'd think so, but I'm older. _Five minutes_ older, to be exact.” 

“And that gives you older brother authority?” 

“Don't you consider yourself to have older brother authority over Remus?” Roman knew he was caught. He didn't say anything. Janus didn't seem to be expecting him to. “So you understand why I must retract my original threat I made at the start of your relationship with my brother and replace it with a much more serious one, right? Since this situation is much more serious?” This time, Janus was expecting an answer. Finally, Roman spoke, his voice sounding a little hoarse and shaky. 

“I understand.” 

“Good. So, I approve of this engagement, but if you break it, consequently breaking my twin brother’s heart, I’ll break _you_. And there won't be a body to be found and grieve over.” 

“Meaning…what, exactly?” 

“I’d tell you, but that would be spoiling the plan. Enjoy your engagement.” Janus smiled wide. To Roman, it was menacing, manic, but to anyone else, he just looked overexcited. 

Janus stood, pulling Logan up with him. “We’ll see you later,” Janus told the engaged couple on behalf of himself and Logan. “But remember, Roman, I'm watching you.” Janus pointed his pointer and middle fingers at his eyes, then at Roman’s own. Roman knew Janus was just trying to intimidate him. He wouldn't let his intimidation show. 

He nodded. He and Patton watched as Janus and Logan walked together out of the dorm room, hands holding tight. 

“I'm glad they agreed,” Patton said, once the door closed behind Logan and Janus. 

“I never had any doubts,” Roman responded. “Your brother is all bark and no bite.” 

“You were scared of him.” 

“I was _not_!” Patton smiled fondly at Roman’s denial. Instead of debating the topic, he pressed his lips to Roman’s own. 

**_~ • Fin • ~_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary: The gang are all sophomores in college now. It is the beginning of the school year, and Patton and Roman (even though Patton and Logan are the ones sharing the dorm room) invite over the rest of the gang because they have an announcement: Roman proposed with a ring pop, over the summer. It's promise ring to demonstrate his and Patton's promise that, in the future, after they're done with college, they'll get married. But they want everyone else's approval on the matter. Virgil isn't so sure why he's there or why he has a say in the matter. Especially since things are still tense between him and Janus. Logan has a panic attack after hearing the announcement, because he is reminded of the last time he'd been given such an announcement: before his mother and abusive stepfather got married and his childhood was ruined. The chapter ends after everyone has expressed their approval of the engagement. And Janus gives Roman a death threat of his own (though whether any one of them would act on their death threats is debatable).
> 
> ***
> 
> And with that, we reach the end of the story. Thank you for joining me on this journey. But don't fret; it's not quite over yet.  
> When I wrote this epilogue, I had no intention of expanding this universe beyond this story. However, if you keep your eyes peeled over the next month (or you could subscribe to this series ( _It's a series!_ )), you'll see little things I've written as I've posted this fic, re-immersed myself in the universe I had originally crafted during a summer of heartbreak.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos bring me the serotonin I desperately need, so don't be shy, I don't bite.


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